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H>/je 

POPULAR  SCIENCE 
LIBRARY 


WONDERS  ^NATURE 
ACHIEVEMENTS  Of  MAN' 


With  an  Introduction  by 
IRA  REMSLN.  Ph.D..  LL.D 
- LIST  OF  CONTRIBUTORS  ~ 


CHARLES  R DARWIN 
THOMAS  H HUXLEY 
LORD  AVEBURY *5 
RICHARD  A. PROCTOR 
Sir  ARCHIBALD  CEIKIE 
JOHN  STUART  MILL 
SAMUEL  P.  LANGLEY 
GEORGE  M STERNBERG 
ROBSON  ROOSE.MD 
HENRY  DESMAREST 
RAY  STANNARD  BAKES 


HERBERT  SPENCER 
ALFRED  RUSSEL  WALLACE 
ERNST  HEINRICH  HAECKEL 
EDWARD  B.TYLOR 
ADOLPHE  GANOT^ff 
JOHN  TYNDALL  •§ 
LELAND  O.  HOWARD 
Sir  JAMES  PAGET.M.D. 
W.  STANLEY  JEVONS 
CLEVELAND  MOFFETT 
CLARENCE  L BROWNELL 


U OTHERS 


CTSTY 


vts  mo /i  ic  • .• : 

A - HILL  AND  COMPANY 


J 


Copyright,  1904,  by  J.  A.  Hill  & Co. 
Copyright,  1906,  by  J.  A.  Hill  & Co. 


i irst  principles 


By  Herbert  Spencer 


popular  BMtton 


NEW  YORK 

J.  A.  HILL  AND  COMPANY 

MCMIV 


I 


U 

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SlHsr  f 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FOURTH  EDITION. 

To  the  first  edition  of  this  work  there  should  have  been 
prefixed  a definite  indication  of  its  origin;  and  the  misappre- 
hensions that  have  arisen  in  the  absence  of  such  indication  ought 
before  now  to  have  shown  me  the  need  of  suppling  it. 

Though  reference  was  made,  in  a note  on  the  first  page  of 
the  original  preface,  to  certain  Essays  entitled  “ Progress : its 
Law  and  Cause,”  and  “ Transcendental  Physiology,”  as  con- 
taining generalizations  which  were  to  be  elaborated  in  the 
“ System  of  Philosophy  ” there  set  forth  in  programme,  yet  the 
dates  of  these  Essays  were  not  given ; nor  wuts  there  any  indica- 
tion of  their  cardinal  importance  as  containing,  in  a brief  form, 
the  general  Theory  of  Evolution.  ISTo  clear  evidence  to  the 
contrary  standing  in  the  way,  there  has  been  very  generally 
uttered  and  accepted  the  belief  that  this  work,  and  the  works 
following  it,  originated  after,  and  resulted  from,  the  special 
doctrine  contained  in  Mr.  Darwin’s  “ Origin  of  Species.” 

The  Essay  on  “ Progress : its  Law  and  Cause,”  coextensive  in 
the  theory  it  contains  with  Chapters  XV.,  XVI.,  XVII.  and 
XX.,  in  Part  II.  of  this  work,  was  first  published  in  the  “ West- 
minster Review”  for  April,  1857;  and  the  Essay  in  which  is 
briefly  set  forth  the  general  truth  elaborated  in  Chapter  XIX. 
Physiology,”  in  the  “ Xational  Review  ” for  October,  1857. 
Further  I may  point  out  that  in  the  first  edition  of  “ The 
Principles  of  Psychology,”  published  in  July,  1855,  men- 
tal phenomena  are  interpreted  entirely  from  the  evolution 
point  of  view;  and  the  words  used  in  the  titles  of  sundry  chap- 
ters imply  the  presence  at  that  date,  of  ideas  more  widely  applied 
in  the  Essays  just  named.  As  the  first  edition  of  “ The  Origin 
of  Species”  did  not  make  its  appearance  till  October,  1859,  it  is 
manifest  that  the  theory  set  forth  in  this  work  and  its  successors 
had  an  origin  independent  of,  and  prior  to,  that  which  is  com- 
monly assumed  to  have  initiated  it. 


v 


VI 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FOURTH  EDITION 


The  distinctness  of  origin  might,  indeed,  have  been  inferred 
from  the  work  itself,  which  deals  with  Evolution  at  large  — 
Inorganic,  Organic,  and  Super-organic  — in  terms  of  Matter  and 
Motion;  and  touches  but  briefly  on  those  particular  processes  so 
luminously  exhibited  by  Mr.  Darwin.  In  § 159  only  (p.  447), 
when  illustrating  the  law  of  “ The  Multiplication  of  Effects,” 
as  universally  displayed,  have  I had  occasion  to  refer  to  the 
doctrine  set  forth  in  the  “ Origin  of  Species  ” : pointing  out 
that  the  general  cause  I had  previously  assigned  for  the  produc- 
tion of  divergent  varieties  of  organisms  would  not  suffice  to 
account  for  all  the  facts  without  that  special  cause  disclosed  by 
Mr.  Darwin.  The  absence  of  this  passage  would,  of  course,  leave 
a serious  gap  in  the  general  argument ; but  the  remainder  of  the 
work  would  stand  exactly  as  it  now  does. 

I do  not  make  this  explanation  in  the  belief  that  the  prevail- 
ing misapprehension  will  thereby  soon  be  rectified ; for  I am 
conscious  that,  once  having  become  current,  wrong  beliefs  of 
this  kind  long  persist  — all  disproofs  notwithstanding.  Never- 
theless, I yield  to  the  suggestion  that,  unless  I state  the  facts 
as  they  stand,  I shall  continue  to  countenance  the  misapprehen- 
sion, and  cannot  expect  it  to  cease. 

May , 1880. 


PREFACE  T©  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


The  present  volume  is  the  first  of  a series  designed  to  unfold 
the  principles  of  a new  philosophy.  It  is  divided  into  two  parts : 
the  aim  of  the  first  being  to  determine  the  true  sphere  of  all 
rational  investigation,  and  of  the  second,  to  elucidate  those 
fundamental  and  universal  principles  which  science  has  estab- 
lished within  that  sphere,  and  which  are  to  constitute  the  basis 
of  the  system.  The  scheme  of  truth  developed  in  these  First 
Principles  is  complete  in  itself,  and  has  its  independent  value; 
but  it  is  designed  by  the  author  to  serve  for  guidance  and  veri- 
fication in  the  construction  of  the  succeeding  and  larger  portions 
of  his  philosophic  plan. 

As  the  present  volume  is  a working-out  of  universal  principles 
to  be  subsequently  applied,  it  is  probably  of  a more  abstract 
character  than  will  be  the  subsequent  works  of  the  series.  The 
discussions  strike  down  to  the  profoundest  basis  of  human 
thought,  and  involve  the  deepest  questions  upon  which  the 
intellect  of  man  has  entered.  Those  unaccustomed  to  close 
metaphysical  reasoning  may  therefore  find  parts  of  the  argument 
not  easy  to  follow,  although  it  is  here  presented  with  a distinct- 
ness and  a vigor  to  be  found  perhaps  in  no  other  author.  Still, 
the  chief  portions  of  the  book  may  be  read  by  all  with  ease  and 
pleasure,  while  no  one  can  fail  to  be  repaid  for  the  persistent 
effort  that  may  be  required  to  master  the  entire  argument.  All 
who  have  sufficient  earnestness  of  nature  to  take  interest  in  those 
transcendent  questions  which  are  now  occupying  the  most  ad- 
vanced minds  of  the  age  will  find  them  here  considered  with 
unsurpassed  clearness,  originality,  and  power. 

The  invigorating  influence  of  philosophical  studies  upon  the 
mind,  and  their  consequent  educational  value,  have  been  long 
recognized.  In  this  point  of  view  the  system  here  presented 
has  high  claims  upon  the  young  men  of  our  country  — embody- 
ing as  it  does  the  latest  and  largest  results  of  positive  science ; 
organizing  its  facts  and  principles  upon  a natural  method,  which 

vii 


viii 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION 


places  them  most  perfectly  in  command  of  memory;  and  con- 
verging all  its  lines  of  inquiry  to  the  end  of  a high  practical 
beneficence  — the  unfolding  of  those  laws  of  nature  and  human 
nature  which  determine  personal  welfare  and  the  social  polity. 
Earnest  and  reverent  in  temper,  cautious  in  statement,  severely 
logical  and  yet  presenting  his  views  in  a transparent  and  at- 
tractive style  which  combines  the  precision  of  science  with  many 
of  the  graces  of  light  composition,  it  is  believed  that  the  thorough 
study  of  Spencer’s  philosophical  scheme  would  combine,  in  an 
unrivalled  degree,  those  prime  requisites  of  the  highest  educa- 
tion, a knowledge  of  the  truths  which  it  is  most  important  for 
man  to  know,  and  that  salutary  discipline  of  the  mental  faculties 
which  results  from  their  systematic  acquisition. 

We  say  the  young  men  of  our  country,  for,  if  we  are  not  mis- 
taken, it  is  here  that  Mr.  Spencer  is  to  find  his  largest  and 
fittest  audience.  There  is  something  in  the  bold  handling  of  his 
questions,  in  his  earnest  and  fearless  appeal  to  first  principles, 
and  in  the  practical  availability  of  his  conclusions,  which  is 
eminently  suited  to  the  genius  of  our  people.  It  has  been  so 
in  a marked  sense  with  his  work  on  Education,  and  there  is  no 
reason  why  it  should  not  be  so  in  an  equal  degree  with  his  other 
writings.  They  betray  a profound  sympathy  with  the  best  spirit 
of  our  institutions,  and  that  noble  aspiration  for  the  welfare 
and  improvement  of  society  which  can  hardly  fail  to  commend 
them  to  the  more  liberal  and  enlightened  portions  of  the  Ameri- 
can public. 


CONTENTS 


PART  I.— THE  UNKNOWABLE. 

Chapter  Page 

I.— Religion  and  Science 1 

II. — Ultimate  Religious  Ideas 20 

III.  — Ultimate  Scientific  Ideas 39 

IV.  — The  Relativity  of  all  Knowledge 57 

V. — The  Reconciliation 83 


PART  II.— THE  KNOWABLE. 

I. — Philosophy  Defined 106 

II. — The  Data  of  Philosophy 113 

III.  — Space,  Time,  Matter,  Motion,  and  Force 133 

IV.  — The  Indestructibility  of  Matter 146 

V. — The  Continuity  of  Motion 153 

VI.— The  Persistence  of  Force 162 

VII. — The  Persistence  of  Relations  Among  Forces 168 

VIII.- — Transformation  and  Equivalence  of  Forces 171 

IX. — The  Direction  of  Motion 194 

X. — -The  Rhythm  of  Motion 217 

XI. — Recapitulation,  Criticism,  and  Recommencement 236 

XII. — Evolution  and  Dissolution 241 

XIII.  — Simple  and  Compound  Evolution 249 

XIV.  — The  Law  of  Evolution 266 

XV. — The  Law  of  Evolution  Continued 285 

XVI. — The  Law  of  Evolution  Continued 313 

XVII. — The  Law  of  Evolution  Concluded 330 

XVIII. — The  Interpretation  of  Evolution 344 

XIX. — -The  Instability  of  the  Homogeneous 348 

XX. — The  Multiplication  of  Effects 373 

XXI. — Segregation  397 

XXII. — Equilibration  418 

XXIII. — Dissolution  448 

XXIV. — Summary  and  Conclusion 465 


la 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTER  I. 

RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE. 

§ 1.  We  too  often  forget  that  not  only  is  there  “ a soul 
of  goodness  in  things  evil,”  but  very  generally  also  a soul  of 
truth  in  things  erroneous.  While  many  admit  the  abstract 
probability  that  a falsity  has  usually  a nucleus  of  reality, 
few  bear  this  abstract  probability  in  mind,  when  passing  judg- 
ment on  the  opinions  of  others.  A belief  that  is  finally  proved 
to  be  grossly  at  variance  with  fact  is  cast  aside  with  indigna- 
tion or  contempt;  and  in  the  heat  of  antagonism  scarcely 
any  one  inquires  what  there  was  in  this  belief  which  commended 
it  to  men’s  minds.  Yet  there  must  have  been  something. 
And  there  is  reason  to  suspect  that  this  something  was  its 
correspondence  with  certain  of  their  experiences : an  extremely 
limited  or  vague  correspondence  perhaps;  but  still,  a corres- 
pondence. Even  the  absurdest  report  may  in  nearly  every 
instance  be  traced  to  an  actual  occurrence;  and  had  there  been 
no  such  actual  occurrence,  this  preposterous  misrepresentation 
of  it  would  never  have  existed.  Though  the  distorted  or  magni- 
fied image  transmitted  to  us  through  the  refracting  medium 
of  rumor,  is  utterly  unlike  the  reality;  yet  in  the  absence  of 
the  reality  there  would  have  been  no  distorted  or  magnified 
image.  And  thus  it  is  with  human  beliefs  in  general.  En- 
tirely wrong  as  they  may  appear,  the  implication  is  that  they 
germinated  out  of  actual  experiences  — originally  contained,  and 
perhaps  still  contain,  some  small  amount  of  verity. 

More  especially  may  we  safely  assume  this,  in  the  case  of 
beliefs  that  have  long  existed  and  are  widely  diffused ; and 
most  of  all  so  in  the  case  of  beliefs  that  are  perennial  and 
nearly  or  quite  universal.  The  presumption  that  any  current 
opinion  is  not  wholly  false  gains  in  strength  according  to  the 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


o 

number  of  its  adherents.  Admitting,  as  we  must,  that  life  is 
impossible  unless  through  a certain  agreement  between  internal 
convictions  and  external  circumstances ; admitting  therefore 
that  the  probabilities  are  always  in  favor  of  the  truth,  or  at 
least  the  partial  truth,  of  a conviction ; we  must  admit  that  the 
convictions  entertained  by  many  minds  in  common  are  the  most 
likely  to  have  some  foundation.  The  elimination  of  individual 
errors  of  thought  must  give  to  the  resulting  judgment  a certain 
additional  value.  It  may  indeed  be  urged  that  many  widely- 
spread  beliefs  are  received  on  authority;  that  those  entertaining 
them  make  no  attempts  at  verification;  and  hence  it  may  be 
inferred  that  the  multitude  of  adherents  adds  but  little  to  the 
probability  of  a belief.  But  this  is  not  true.  For  a belief 
which  gains  extensive  reception  without  critical  examination, 
is  thereby  proved  to  have  a general  congruity  with  the  various 
other  beliefs  of  those  who  receive  it;  and  in  so  far  as  these 
various  other  beliefs  are  based  upon  personal  observation  and 
judgment,  they  give  an  indirect  warrant  to  one  with  which 
they  harmonize.  It  may  be  that  this  warrant  is  of  small  value ; 
but  still  it  is  of  some  value. 

Could  we  reach  definite  views  on  this  matter,  they  would 
be  extremely  useful  to  us.  It  is  important  that  we  should, 
if  possible,  form  something  like  a general  theory  of  current 
opinions;  so  that  we  may  neither  overestimate  nor  underes- 
timate their  worth.  Arriving  at  correct  judgments  on  dis- 
puted questions,  much  depends  on  the  attitude  of  mind  we 
preserve  while  listening  to,  or  taking  part  in.  the  controversy; 
and  for  the  preservation  of  a right  attitude,  it  is  needful  that 
we  should  learn  how  true,  and  yet  how  untrue,  are  average 
human  beliefs.  On  the  one  hand,  we  must  keep  free  from  that 
bias  in  favor  of  received  ideas  which  expresses  itself  in  such 
dogmas  as  “ What  every  one  says  must  be  true,”  or  “ The  voice 
of  the  people  is  the  voice  of  God.”  On  the  other  hand,  the 
fact  disclosed  by  a survey  of  the  past,  that  majorities  have 
usually  been  wrong,  must  not  blind  us  to  the  complementary 
fact,  that  majorities  have  usually  not  been  entirely  wrong.  And 
the  avoidance  of  these  extremes  being  a prerequisite  to  catholic 
thinking,  we  shall  do  well  to  provide  ourselves  with  a safeguard 
against  them,  by  making  a valuation  of  opinions  in  the  abstract. 
To  this  end  we  must  contemplate  the  kind  of  relation  that 


RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE 


3 


ordinarily  subsists  between  opinions  and  facts.  Let  us  do  so 
with  one  of  those  beliefs  which  under  various  forms  has  pre- 
vailed among  all  nations  in  all  times. 

§ 2.  The  earliest  traditions  represent  rulers  as  gods  or 
demigods.  By  their  subjects,  primitive  kings  were  regarded 
as  superhuman  in  origin,  and  superhuman  in  power.  They 
possessed  divine  titles;  received  obeisances  like  those  made 
before  the  altars  of  deities;  and  were  in  some  cases  actually 
worshipped.  If  there  needs  proof  that  the  divine  and  half- 
divine characters  orginally  ascribed  to  monarchs  were  ascribed 
literally,  we  have  it  in  the  fact  that  there  are  still  existing 
savage  races,  among  whom  it  is  held  that  the  chiefs  and  their 
kindred  are  of  celestial  origin,  or,  as  elsewhere,  that  only  the 
chiefs  have  souls.  And  of  course  along  with  beliefs  of  this 
kind,  there  existed  a belief  in  the  unlimited  power  of  the  ruler 
over  his  subjects  — an  absolute  possession  of  them,  extending 
even  to  the  taking  of  their  lives  at  will;  and  even  still  in  Fiji, 
where  a victim  stands  unbound  to  be  killed  at  the  word  of  his 
chief ; himself  declaring,  “ whatever  the  king  says  must  be  done.” 

In  times  and  among  races  somewhat  less  barbarous,  we  find 
these  beliefs  a little  modified.  The  monarch,  instead  of  being 
literally  thought  god  or  demigod,  is  conceived  to  be  a man 
having  divine  authority,  with  perhaps  more  or  less  of  divine 
nature.  He  retains,  however,  as  in  the  East  to  the  present  day, 
titles  expressing  his  heavenly  descent  or  relationships ; and  is  still 
saluted  in  forms  and  words  as  humble  as  those  addressed  to  the 
Deity.  While  the  lives  and  properties  of  his  people,  if  not 
practically  so  completely  at  his  mercy,  are  still  in  theory  sup- 
posed to  be  his. 

Later  in  the  progress  of  civilizations,  as  during  the  Middle 
Ages  in  Europe,  the  current  opinions  respecting  the  relation- 
ship of  rulers  and  ruled  are  further  changed.  For  the  theory 
of  divine  origin,  there  is  substituted  that  of  divine  right.  Mo 
longer  god  or  demigod,  or  even  god-descended,  the  king  is  now 
regarded  as  simply  God’s  vicegerent.  The  obeisances  made  to 
him  are  not  so  extreme  in  their  humility;  and  his  sacred  titles 
lose  much  of  their  meaning.  Moreover,  his  authority  ceases  to 
be  unlimited.  Subjects  deny  his  right  to  dispose  at  will  of 


4 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


their  lives  and  properties ; and  yield  allegiance  only  in  the  shape 
of  obedience  to  his  commands. 

With  advancing  political  opinion  has  come  still  greater  re- 
striction of  imperial  power.  Belief  in  the  supernatural  charac- 
ter of  the  ruler,  long  ago  repudiated  by  ourselves,  for  example, 
has  left  behind  it  nothing  more  than  the  popular  tendency  to 
ascribe  unusual  goodness,  wisdom,  and  beauty  to  the  monarch. 
Loyalty,  which  originally  meant  implicit  submission  to  the 
king’s  will,  now  means  a merely  nominal  profession  of  subordi- 
nation, and  the  fulfilment  of  certain  forms  of  respect.  Our 
political  practice,  and  our  political  theory,  alike  utterly  reject 
those  regal  prerogatives  which  once  passed  unquestioned.  By 
deposing  some,  and  putting  others  in  their  places,  we  have  not 
only  denied  the  divine  rights  of  certain  men  to  rule;  but  we  have 
denied  that  they  have  any  rights  beyond  those  originating  in 
the  assent  of  the  nation.  Though  our  forms  of  speech  and  our 
State-documents  still  assert  the  subjection  of  the  citizens  to  the 
ruler,  our  actual  beliefs  and  our  daily  proceedings  implicitly 
assert  the  contrary.  We  obey  no  laws  save  those  of  our  own 
making.  We  have  entirely  divested  the  monarch  of  legislative 
power;  and  should  immediately  rebel  against  his  or  her  ex- 
ercise of  such  power,  even  in  matters  of  the  smallest  concern. 
In  brief,  the  aboriginal  doctrine  is  all  but  extinct  among  us. 

Nor  has  the  rejection  of  primitive  political  beliefs  resulted 
only  in  transferring  the  authority  of  an  autocrat  to  a representa- 
tive body.  The  views  entertained  respecting  governments  in 
general,  of  whatever  form,  are  now  widely  different  from  those 
once  entertained.  Whether  popular  or  despotic,  governments 
were  in  ancient  times  supposed  to  have  unlimited  authority 
over  their  subjects.  Individuals  existed  for  the  benefit  of  the 
State;  not  the  State  for  the  benefit  of  individuals.  In  our 
days,  however,  not  only  has  the  national  will  been  in  many 
cases  substituted  for  the  will  of  the  king;  but  the  exercise  of 
this  national  will  has  been  restricted  to  a much  smaller  sphere. 
In  England,  for  instance,  though  there  has  been  established  no 
definite  theory  setting  bounds  to  governmental  authority,  yet, 
in  practice,  sundry  bounds  have  been  set  to  it  which  are  tacitly 
recognized  by  all.  There  is  no  organic  law  formally  declaring 
that  the  legislature  may  not  freely  dispose  of  the  citizens’  lives, 
as  early  kings  did  when  they  sacrificed  hecatombs  of  victims; 


RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE 


5 


but  were  it  possible  for  our  legislature  to  attempt  such  a thing, 
its  own  destruction  would  be  the  consequence,  rather  than  the 
destruction  of  citizens.  How  entirely  we  have  established  the 
personal  liberties  of  the  subject  against  the  invasions  of  State 
power,  would  be  quickly  demonstrated,  were  it  proposed  by 
Act  of  Parliament  forcibly  to  take  possession  of  the  nation,  or 
of  any  class,  and  turn  its.  services  to  public  ends ; as  the  services 
of  the  people  were  turned  by  primitive  rulers.  And  should  any 
statesman  suggest  a redistribution  of  property  such  as  was  some- 
times made  in  ancient  democratic  communities,  he  would  be  met 
by  a thousand-ton gued  denial  of  imperial  power  over  individual 
possessions.  Not  only  in  our  day  have  these  fundamental 
claims  of  the  citizen  been  thus  made  good  against  the  State, 
but  sundry  minor  claims  likewise.  Ages  ago,  laws  regulating 
dress  and  mode  of  living  fell  into  disuse;  and  any  attempt  to 
revive  them  would  prove  the  current  opinion  to  be,  that  such 
matters  lie  beyond  the  sphere  of  legal  control.  For  some  cen- 
turies we  have  been  asserting  in  practice,  and  have  now  estab- 
lished in  theory,  the  right  of  every  man  to  choose  his  own  reli- 
gious beliefs,  instead  of  receiving  such  beliefs  on  State  authority. 
Within  the  last  few  generations  we  have  inaugurated  complete 
liberty  of  speech,  in  spite  of  all  legislative  attempts  to  suppress 
or  limit  it.  And  still  more  recently  we  have  claimed  and 
finally  obtained,  under  a few  exceptional  restrictions,  freedom  to 
trade  with  whomsoever  we  please.  Thus  our  political  beliefs 
are  widely  different  from  ancient  ones,  not  only  as  to  the  proper 
depositary  of  power  to  be  exercised  over  a nation,  but  also  as  to 
the  extent  of  that  power. 

Not  even  here  has  the  change  ended.  Besides  the  average 
opinions  which  we  have  just  described  as  current  among  our- 
selves, there  exists  a less  widely  diffused  opinion  going  still 
further  in  the  same  direction.  There  are  to  be  found  men 
who  contend  that  the  sphere  of  government  should  be  narrowed 
even  more  than  it  is  in  England.  The  modern  doctrine  that 
the  State  exists  for  the  benefit  of  citizens,  which  has  now  in  a 
great  measure  supplanted  the  ancient  doctrine  that  the  citizens 
exist  for  the  benefit  of  the  State,  they  would  push  to  its  logical 
results.  They  hold  that  the  freedom  of  the  individual,  limited 
only  by  the  like  freedom  of  other  individuals,  is  sacred;  and 
that  the  legislature  cannot  equitably  put  further  restrictions 


(3 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


upon  it,  either  by  forbidding  any  actions  which  the  law  of  equal 
freedom  permits,  or  taking  away  any  property  save  that  required 
to  pay  the  cost  of  enforcing  this  law  itself.  They  assert  that 
the  sole  function  of  the  State  is  the  protection  of  persons  against 
each  other,  and  against  a foreign  foe.  They  urge  that  as, 
throughout  civilization,  the  manifest  tendency  has  been  con- 
tinually to  extend  the  liberties  of  the  subject,  and  restrict  the 
f unctions  of  the  State,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  ultimate 
political  condition  must  be  one  in  which  personal  freedom  is 
the  greatest  possible  and  governmental  power  the  least  possible ; 
that,  namely,  in  which  the  freedom  of  each  has  no  limit  but  the 
like  freedom  of  all;  while  the  sole  governmental  duty  is  the 
maintenance  of  this  limit. 

Here,  then,  in  different  times  and  places  we  find  concerning 
the  origin,  authority,  and  functions  of  government  a great  va- 
riety of  opinions  - — opinions  of  which  the  leading  genera  above 
indicated  subdivide  into  countless  species.  What  now  must  be 
said  about  the  truth  or  falsity  of  these  opinions  ? Save  among  a 
few  barbarous  tribes  the  notion  that  a monarch  is  a god  or 
demigod  is  regarded  throughout  the  world  as  an  absurdity 
almost  passing  the  bounds  of  human  credulity.  In  but  few 
places  does  there  survive  a vague  notion  that  the  ruler  possesses 
any  supernatural  attributes.  Most  civilized  communities  which 
still  admit  the  divine  right  of  governments  have  long  since 
repudiated  the  divine  right  of  kings.  Elsewhere  the  belief  that 
there  is  anything  sacred  in  legislative  regulations  is  dying  out; 
laws  are  coming  to  be  considered  as  conventional  only.  While 
the  extreme  school  holds  that  governments  have  neither  intrinsic 
authority,  nor  can  have  authority  given  to  them  by  convention, 
but  can  possess  authority  only  as  the  administrators  of  those 
moral  principles  deducible  from  the  conditions  essential  to 
social  life.  Of  these  various  beliefs,  with  their  innumerable 
modifications,  must  we  then  say  that  some  one  alone  is  wholly 
right  and  all  the  rest  wholly  wrong;  or  must  we  say  that  each 
of  them  contains  truth  more  or  less  completely  disguised  by 
errors?  The  latter  alternative  is  the  one  which  analysis  will 
force  upon  us.  Ridiculous  as  they  may  severally  appear  to  those 
not  educated  under  them,  every  one  of  these  doctrines  has  for 
its  vital  element  the  recognition  of  an  unquestionable  fact. 
Directly  or  by  implication,  each  of  them  insists  on  a certain 


RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE 


7 


subordination  of  individual  actions  to  social  requirements. 
There  are  wide  differences  as  to  the  power  to  which  this  subordi- 
nation is  due;  there  are  wide  differences  as  to  the  motive  for 
this  subordination;  there  are  wide  differences  as  to  its  extent, 
but  there  must  be  some  subordination  all  are  agreed. 

Froni  ;;hei  oldest  and  rudest  idea  of  allegiance,  down  to  the 
most  advanced  political  theory  of  our  own  day,  there  is  on 
this  point  complete  unanimity.  Though,  between  the  savage 
who  conceives  his  life  and  property  to  be  at  the  absolute  disposal 
of  his  chief,  and  the  anarchist  who  denies  the  right  of  any  gov- 
ernment, autocratic  or  democratic,  to  trench  upon  his  individual 
freedom,  there  seems  at  first  sight  an  entire  and  irreconcilable 
antagonism;  yet  ultimate  analysis  discloses  in  them  this  funda- 
mental community  of  opinion ; that  there  are  limits  which 
individual  actions  may  not  transgress  — limits  which  the  one 
regards  as  originating  in  the  king’s  will,  and  which  the  other 
regards  as  deducible  from  the  equal  claims  of  fellow-citizens. 

It  may  perhaps  at  first  sight  seem  that  we  here  reach  a very 
unimportant  conclusion : namely,  that  a certain  tacit  assumption 
is  equally  implied  in  all  these  conflicting  political  creeds  — an 
assumption  which  is  indeed  of  self-evident  validity.  The  ques- 
tion, however,  is  not  the  value  or  novelty  of  the  particular  truth 
in  this  case  arrived  at.  My  aim  has  been  to  exhibit  the  more 
general  truth,  which  we  are  apt  to  overlook,  that  between  the 
most  opposite  beliefs  there  is  usually  something  in  common  — 
something  taken  for  granted  by  each ; and  that  this  something,  if 
not  to  be  set  down  as  an  unquestionable  verity,  may  yet  be 
considered  to  have  the  highest  degree  of  probability.  A postu- 
late which,  like  the  one  above  instanced,  is  not  consciously 
asserted  but  unconsciously  involved ; and  which  is  unconsciously 
involved  not  by  one  man  or  body  of  men,  but  by  numerous 
bodies  of  men  who  diverge  in  countless  ways  and  degrees  in  the 
rest  of  their  beliefs  — has  a warrant  far  transcending  any  that 
can  be  usually  shown.  And  when,  as  in  this  case,  the  postulate 
is  abstract  — is  not  based  on  some  one  concrete  experience  com- 
mon to  all  mankind,  but  implies  an  induction  from  a great 
variety  of  experiences,  we  may  say  that  it  ranks  next  in 
certainty  to  the  postulates  of  exact  science. 

Do  we  not  thus  arrive  at  a generalization  which  may  habitu- 
ally guide  us  when  seeking  for  the  soul  of  truth  in  things 


8 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


erroneous  ? While  the  foregoing  illustration  brings  clearly  home 
the  fact,  that  in  opinions  seeming  to  be  absolutely  and  supremely 
wrong  something  right  is  yet  to  be  found,  it  also  indicates  the 
method  we  should  pursue  in  seeking  the  something  right.  This 
method  is  to  compare  all  opinions  of  the  same  genus;  to  set 
aside  as  more  or  less  discrediting  one  another  those  various 
special  and  concrete  elements  in  which  such  opinions  disagree ; 
to  observe  what  remains  after  the  discordant  constituents  have 
been  eliminated ; and  to  find  for  this  remaining  constituent  that 
abstract  expression  which  holds  true  throughout  its  divergent 
modifications. 

§ 3.  A candid  acceptance  of  this  general  principle,  and  an 
adoption  of  the  course  it  indicates,  will  greatly  aid  us  in  dealing 
with  those  chronic  antagonisms  by  which  men  are  divided.  Ap- 
plying it  not  only  to  current  ideas  with  which  we  are  personally 
unconcerned,  but  also  to  our  own  ideas  and  those  of  our  oppon- 
ents, we  shall  be  led  to  form  far  more  correct  judgments.  We 
shall  be  ever  ready  to  suspect  that  the  convictions  we  entertain 
are  not  wholly  right,  and  that  the  adverse  convictions  are  not 
wholly  wrong.  On  the  one  hand,  we  shall  not,  in  common  with 
the  great  mass  of  the  unthinking,  let  our  beliefs  be  determined  by 
the  mere  accident  of  birth  in  a particular  age  on  a particular 
part  of  the  Earth’s  surface ; and,  on  the  other  hand,  we  shall  be 
saved  from  that  error  of  entire  and  contemptuous  negation  which 
is  fallen  into  by  most  who  take  up  an  attitude  of  independent 
criticism. 

Of  all  antagonisms  of  belief,  the  oldest,  the  widest,  the  most 
profound,  and  the  most  important,  is  that  between  Eeligion  and 
Science.  It  commenced  when  the  recognition  of  the  simplest 
uniformities  in  surrounding  things  set  a limit  to  the  once  uni- 
versal superstition.  It  shows  itself  everywhere  throughout  the 
domain  of  human  knowledge,  affecting  men’s  interpretations 
alike  of  the  simplest  mechanical  accidents  and  of  the  most 
complicated  events  in  the  histories  of  nations.  It  has  its  roots 
deep  down  in  the  diverse  habits  of  thought  of  different  orders 
of  minds.  And  the  conflicting  conceptions  of  nature  and  life 
which  these  diverse  habits  of  thought  severally  generate  influ- 
ence for  good  or  ill  the  tone  of  feeling  and  the  daily  conduct. 

An  unceasing  battle  of  opinion  like  this,  which  has  been 
carried  on  throughout  all  ages  under  the  banners  of  Eeligion  and 


RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE 


9 


Science,  has  of  course  generated  an  animosity  fatal  to  a just 
estimate  of  either  party  by  the  other.  On  a larger  scale,  and 
more  intensely  than  any  other  controvers}r,  has  it  illustrated 
that  perennially  significant  fable  concerning  the  knights  who 
fought  about  the  color  of  a shield  of  which  neither  looked  at 
more  than  one  face.  Each  combatant,  seeing  clearly  his  own 
aspect  of  the  question,  has  charged  his  opponent  with  stupidity 
or  dishonesty  in  not  seeing  the  same  aspect  of  it;  while  each 
has  wanted  the  candor  to  go  over  to  his  opponent’s  side  and 
find  out  how  it  was  that  he  saw  everything  so  differently. 

Happily  the  times  display  an  increasing  catholicity  of  feeling, 
which  we  shall  do  well  in  carrying  as  far  as  our  natures  permit. 
In  proportion  as  we  love  truth  more  and  victory  less,  we  shall 
become  anxious  to  know  what  it  is  which  leads  our  opponents  to 
think  as  they  do.  We  shall  begin  to  suspect  that  the  pertinacity 
of  belief  exhibited  by  them  must  result  from  a perception  of 
something  we  have  not  perceived.  And  we  shall  aim  to  supple- 
ment the  portion  of  truth  we  have,  found  with  the  portion  found 
by  them.  Making  a more  rational  estimate  of  human  authority, 
we  shall  avoid  alike  the  extremes  of  undue  submission  and  undue 
rebellion  — shall  not  regard  some  men’s  judgments  as  wholly 
good  and  others  as  wholly  bad ; but  shall  rather  lean  to  the  more 
defensible  position  that  none  are  completely  right  and  none 
are  completely  wrong. 

Preserving,  as  far  as  may  be,  this  impartial  attitude,  let  us 
then  contemplate  the  two  sides  of  this  great  controversy.  Keep- 
ing guard  against  the  bias  of  education  and  shutting  out  the 
whisperings  of  sectarian  feeling,  let  us  consider  what  are  the 
a priori  probabilities  in  favor  of  each  party. 

§ 4.  When  duly  realized,  the  general  principle  above  illus- 
trated must  lead  us  to  anticipate  that  the  diverse  forms  of 
religious  belief  which  have  existed,  and  which  still  exist,  have 
all  a basis  in  some  ultimate  fact.  Judging  by  analogy  the 
implication  is,  not  that  any  one  of  them  is  altogether  right; 
but  that  in  each  there  is  something  right  more  or  less  disguised 
by  other  things  wrong.  It  may  be  that  the  soul  of  truth  con- 
tained in  erroneous  creeds  is  very  unlike  most,  if  not  all,  of 
its  several  embodiments ; and  indeed  if,  as  we  have  good  reason 
to  expect,  it  is  much  more  abstract  than  any  of  them,  its  unlikq- 


10 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ness  necessarily  follows.  But  however  different  from  its  con- 
crete expressions,  some  essential  verity  must  be  looked  for.  To 
suppose  that  these  multiform  conceptions  should  be  one  and 
all  absolutely  groundless,  discredits  too  profoundly  that  average 
human  intelligence  from  which  all  our  individual  intelligences 
are  inherited. 

This  most  general  reason  we  shall  find  enforced  by  other 
more  special  ones.  To  the  presumption  that  a number  of  diverse 
beliefs  of  the  same  class  have  some  common  foundation  in  fact, 
must  in  this  case  be  added  a further  presumption  derived  from 
the  omnipresence  of  the  beliefs.  Religious  ideas  of  one  kind  or 
other  are  almost  universal.  Admitting  that  in  many  places 
there  are  tribes  who  have  no  theory  of  creation,  no  word  for  a 
deity,  no  propitiatory  acts,  no  idea  of  another  life,  admitting 
that  only  when  a certain  phase  of  intelligence  is  reached  do  the 
most  rudimentary  of  such  theories  make  their  appearance  — the 
implication  is  practically  the  same.  Grant  that  among  all  races 
who  have  passed  a certain . stage  of  intellectual  development 
there  are  found  vague  notions  concerning  the  origin  anc|  hidden 
nature  of  surrounding  things,  and  there  arises  the  inference 
that  such  notions  are  necessary  products  of  progressing  intelli- 
gence. Their  endless  variety  serves  but  to  strengthen  this  con- 
clusion : showing  as  it  does  a more  or  less  independent  genesis 
■ — showing  how,  in  different  places  and  times,  like  conditions 
have  led  to  similar  trains  of  thought,  ending  in  analogous  re- 
sults. That  these  countless  different,  and  yet  allied,  phenomena 
presented  by  all  religions  are  accidental  or  factitious,  is  an 
untenable  supposition.  A candid  examination  of  the  evidence 
quite  negatives  the  doctrine  maintained  by  some,  that  creeds  are 
priestly  inventions.  Even  as  a mere  question  of  probabilities 
it  cannot  rationally  be  concluded  that  in  every  society,  past  and 
present,  savage  and  civilized,  certain  members  of  the  community 
have  combined  to  delude  the  rest  in  ways  so  analogous.  To 
any  who  may  allege  that  some  primitive  fiction  was  devised  by 
some  primitive  priesthood  before  yet  mankind  had  diverged 
from  a common  centre,  a reply  is  furnished  by  philology;  for 
philology  proves  the  dispersion  of  mankind  to  have  commenced 
before  there  existed  a language  sufficiently  organized  to  express 
religious  ideas.  Moreover,  were  it  otherwise  tenable,  the  hy- 
pothesis of  artificial  origin  fails  to  account  for  the  facts,  It 


RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE 


11 


does  not  explain  why,  under  all  changes  of  form,  certain  ele- 
ments of  religions  belief  remain  constant.  It  does  not  show 
us  how  it  happens  that  while  adverse  criticism  has  from  age  to 
age  gone  on  destroying  particular  theological  dogmas,  it  has  not 
destroyed  the  fundamental  conception  underlying  these  dogmas. 
It  leaves  us  without  any  solution  of  the  striking  circumstance 
that  when,  from  the  absurdities  and  corruptions  accumulated 
around  them,  national  creeds  have  fallen  into  general  discredit, 
ending  in  indifferentism  or  positive  denial,  there  has  always  by 
and  by  arisen  a reassertion  of  them ; if  not  the  same  in  form,  still 
the  same  in  essence.  Thus  the  universality  of  religious  ideas, 
their  independent  evolution  among  different  primitive  races, 
and  their  great  vitality,  unite  in  showing  that  their  source  must 
be  deep-seated  instead  of  superficial.  In  other  words,  we  are 
obliged  to  admit  that,  if  not  supernaturally  derived  as  the 
majority  contend,  they  must  be  derived  out  of  human  experi- 
ences, slowly  accumulated  and  organized. 

Should  it  be  asserted  that  religious  ideas  are  products  of  the 
religious  sentiment,  which,  to  satisfy  itself,  prompts  imagina- 
tions that  it  afterward  projects  into  the  external  world,  and  by 
and  by  mistakes  for  realities;  the  problem  is  not  solved,  but 
only  removed  further  back.  Whether  the  wish  is  father  to  the 
thought,  or  whether  sentiment  and  idea  have  a common  genesis, 
there  equally  arises  the  question — Whence  comes  the  sentiment  ? 
That  it  is  a constituent  in  man’s  nature  is  implied  by  the 
hypothesis;  and  cannot  indeed  be  denied  by  those  who  prefer 
other  hypotheses.  And  if  the  religious  sentiment,  displayed 
habitually  by  the  majority  of  mankind,  and  occasionally  aroused 
even  in  those  seemingly  devoid  of  it,  must  be  classed  among 
human  emotions,  we  cannot  rationally  ignore  it.  We  are  bound 
to  ask  its  origin  and  its  function.  Here  is  an  attribute  which, 
to  say  the  least,  has  had  an  enormous  influence  — which  has 
played  a conspicuous  part  throughout  the  entire  past  as  far  back 
as  history  records,  and  is  at  present  the  life  of  numerous  institu- 
tions, the  stimulus  to  perpetual  controversies,  and  the  prompter 
of  countless  daily  actions.  Any  Theory  of  Things  which  takes 
no  account  of  this  attribute,  must,  then,  be  extremely  defective. 
If  with  no  other  view,  still  as  a question  in  philosophy  we  are 
called  on  to  say  what  this  attribute  means ; and  we  cannot  decline 
the  task  without  confessing  our  philosophy  to  be  incompetent. 


12 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


Two  suppositions  only  are  open  to  us : the  one  that  the  feeling 
which  responds  to  religious  ideas  resulted,  along  with  all  other 
human  faculties,  from  an  act  of  special  creation;  the  other 
that  it,  in  common  with  the  rest,  arose  by  a process  of  evolution. 
If  we  adopt  the  first  of  these  alternatives,  universally  accepted 
by  our  ancestors  and  by  the  immense  majority  of  our  contempo- 
raries, the  matter  is  at  once  settled : man  is  directly  endowed 
with  the  religious  feeling  by  a creator ; and  to  that  creator  it 
designedly  responds.  If  we  adopt  the  second  alternative,  then 
we  are  met  by  the  questions  — What  are  the  circumstances  to 
which  the  genesis  of  the  religious  feeling  is  due  ? and  — What 
is  its  office  ? We  are  bound  to  entertain  these  questions ; and  we 
are  bound  to  find  answers  to  them.  Considering  all  faculties, 
as  we  must  on  this  supposition,  to  result  from  accumulated 
modifications  caused  by  the  intercourse  of  the  organism  with  its 
environment,  we  are  obliged  to  admit  that  there  exist  in  the 
environment  certain  phenomena  or  conditions  which  have  de- 
termined the  growth  of  the  feeling  in  question ; and  so  are 
obliged  to  admit  that  it  is  as  normal  as  any  other  faculty.  Add 
to  which  that  as,  on  the  hypothesis  of  a development  of  lower 
forms  into  higher,  the  end  toward  which  the  progressive  changes 
directly  or  indirectly  tend  must  be  adaptation  to  the  require- 
ments of  existence;  we  are  also  forced  to  infer  that  this  feeling 
is  in  some  way  conducive  to  human  welfare.  Thus  both  alterna- 
tives contain  the  same  ultimate  implication.  We  must  conclude 
that  the  religious  sentiment  is  either  directly  created,  or  is 
created  by  the  slow  action  of  natural  causes;  and  whichever  of 
these  conclusions  we  adopt  requires  us  to  treat  the  religious 
sentiment  with  respect. 

One  other  consideration  should  not  be  overlooked  — a consid- 
eration which  students  of  Science  more  especially  need  to  have 
pointed  out.  Occupied  as  such  are  with  established  truths,  and 
accustomed  to  regard  things  not  already  known  as  things  to  be 
hereafter  discovered,  they  are  liable  to  forget  that  information, 
however  extexnsive  it  may  become,  can  never  satisfy  inquiry. 
Positive  knowledge  does  not,  and  never  can,  fill  the  whole  region 
of  possible  thought.  At  the  uttermost  reach  of  discovery  there 
arises,  and  must  ever  arise,  the  question  — What  lies  beyond? 
As  it  is  impossible  to  think  of  a limit  to  space  so  as  to  exclude 
the  idea  of  space  lying  outside  that  limit ; so  we  cannot  conceive 


RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE 


13 


of  any  explanation  profound  enough  to  exclude  the  question  — 
What  is  the  explanation  of  that  explanation?  Regarding  Sci- 
ence as  a gradually  increasing  sphere,  we  may  say  that  every 
addition  to  its  surface  does  but  bring  it  into  wider  contact  with 
surrounding  nescience.  There  must  ever  remain,  therefore,  two 
antithetical  modes  of  mental  action.  Throughout  all  future 
time,  as  now,  the  human  mind  may  occupy  itself,  not  only  with 
ascertained  phenomena  and  their  relations,  but  also  with  that 
unascertained  something  which  phenomena  and  their  relations 
imply.  Hence  if  knowledge  cannot  monopolize  consciousness 
— if  it  must  always  continue  possible  for  the  mind  to  dwell  upon 
that  which  transcends  knowledge ; then  there  can  never  cease  to 
be  a place  for  something  of  the  nature  of  Religion;  since  Re- 
ligion under  all  its  forms  is  distinguished  from  everything  else 
in  this,  that  its  subject-matter  is  that  which  passes  the  sphere 
of  experience. 

Thus,  however  untenable  may  be  any  or  all  the  existing  re- 
ligious creeds,  however  gross  the  absurdities  associated  with 
them,  however  irrational  the  arguments  set  forth  in  their  de- 
fense, we  must  not  ignore  the  verity  which  in  all  likelihood  lies 
hidden  within  them.  The  general  probability  that  widely-spread 
beliefs  are  not  absolutely  baseless  is  in  this  case  enforced  by  a 
further  probability  due  to  the  omnipresence  of  the  beliefs.  In 
the  existence  of  a religious  sentiment,  whatever  be  its  origin,  we 
have  a second  evidence  of  great  significance.  And  as  in  that 
nescience  which  must  ever  remain  the  antithesis  to  science,  there 
is  a sphere  for  the  exercise  of  this  sentiment,  we  find  a third 
general  fact  of  like  implication.  We  may  be  sure,  therefore, 
that  religions,  though  even  none  of  them  be  actually  true,  are 
yet  all  adumbrations  of  a truth. 

§ 5.  As,  to  the  religious,  it  will  seem  absurd  to  set  forth 
any  justification  for  Religion ; so,  to  the  scientific,  will  it  seem 
absurd  to  defend  Science.  Yet  to  do  the  last  is  certainly  as 
needful  as  to  do  the  first.  If  there  exists  a class  who,  in  con- 
tempt of  its  follies  and  disgust  at  its  corruptions,  have  con- 
tracted toward  Religion  a repugnance  which  makes  them  over- 
look the  fundamental  verity  contained  in  it  — so,  too,  is  there 
a class  offended  to  such  a degree  by  the  destructive  criticisms 
men  of  science  make  on  the  religious  tenets  they  regard  as 


14 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


essential,  that  they  have  acquired  a strong  prejudice  against 
Science  in  general.  They  are  not  prepared  with  any  avowed 
reasons  for  their  dislike.  They  have  simply  a remembrance  of 
the  rude  shakes  which  Science  has  given  to  many  of  their  cher- 
ished convictions,  and  a suspicion  that  it  may  perhaps  eventually 
uproot  all  they  regard  as  sacred;  and  hence  it  produces  in  them 
a certain  inarticulate  dread. 

What  is  Science.  To  see  the  absurdity  of  the  prejudice 
against  it,  we  need  only  remark  that  Science  is  simply  a higher 
development  of  common  knowledge;  and  that  if  Science  is 
repudiated,  all  knowledge  must  be  repudiated  along  with  it. 
The  extremest  bigot  will  not  suspect  any  harm  in  the  observation 
that  the  sun  rises  earlier  and  sets  later  in  the  summer  than  in 
the  winter;  but  will  rather  consider  such  an  observation  as  a 
useful  aid  in  fulfilling  the  duties  of  life.  Well,  Astronomy  is 
an  organized  body  of  similar  observations,  made  with  greater 
nicety,  extended  to  a larger  number  of  objects,  and  so  analyzed 
as  to  disclose  the  real  arrangements  of  the  heavens,  and  to  dispel 
our  false  conceptions  of  them.  That  iron  will  rust  in  water, 
that  wood  will  burn,  that  long-kept  viands  become  putrid,  the 
most  timid  sectarian  will  teach  without  alarm,  as  things  useful 
to  be  known.  But  these  are  chemical  truths : Chemistry  is  a 
systematized  collection  of  such  facts,  ascertained  with  precision, 
and  so  classified  and  generalized  as  to  enable  us  to  say  with 
certainty,  concerning  each  simple  or  compound  substance,  what 
change  will  occur  in  it  under  given  conditions.  And  thus  is 
it  with  all  the  sciences.  They  severally  germinate  out  of  the 
experiences  of  daily  life;  insensibly  as  they  grow  they  draw  in 
remoter,  more  numerous,  and  more  complex  experiences;  and 
among  these,  they  ascertain  laws  of  dependence  like  those  which 
make  up  our  knowledge  of  the  most  familiar  objects.  Nowhere 
is  it  possible  to  draw  a line  and  say  — here  Science  begins.  And 
as  it  is  the  function  of  common  observation  to  serve  for  the 
guidance  of  conduct;  so,  too,  is  the  guidance  of  conduct  the 
office  of  the  most  recondite  and  abstract  inquiries  of  Science. 
Through  the  countless  industrial  processes  and  the  various  modes 
of  locomotion  which  it  has  given  to  us,  Physics  regulates  more 
completely  our  social  life  than  does  his  acquaintance  with  the 
properties  of  surrounding  bodies  regulate  the  life  of  the  savage. 
Anatomy  and  Physiology,  through  their  effects  on  the  practice  of 


RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE 


15 


medicine  and  hygiene,  modify  our  actions  almost  as  much  as 
does  our  acquaintance  with  the  evils  and  benefits  which  common 
environing  agencies  may  produce  on  our  bodies.  All  Science 
is  prevision ; and  all  prevision  ultimately  aids  us  in  greater 
or  less  degree  to  achieve  the  good  and  avoid  the  bad.  As  cer- 
tainly as  the  perception  of  an  object  lying  in  our  path  warns 
us  against  stumbling  over  it;  so  certainly  do  those  more  compli- 
cated and  subtle  perceptions  which  constitute  Science  warn  us 
against  stumbling  over  intervening  obstacles  in  the  pursuit  of 
our  distant  ends.  Thus  being  one  in  origin  and  function,  the 
simplest  forms  of  cognition  and  the  most  complex  must  be  dealt 
with  alike.  We  are  bound  in  consistency  to  receive  the  widest 
knowledge  which  our  faculties  can  reach,  or  to  reject  along 
with  it  that  narrow  knowledge  possessed  by  all.  There  is  no 
logical  alternative  between  accepting  our  intelligence  in  its 
entirety,  or  repudiating  even  that  lowest  intelligence  which  we 
possess  in  common  with  brutes. 

To  ask  the  question  which  more  immediately  concerns  our 
argument  — Whether  Science  is  substantially  true  ? — is  much 
like  asking  whether  the  sun  gives  light.  And  it  is  because 
they  are  conscious  how  undeniably  valid  are  most  of  its  propo- 
sitions, that  the  theological  party  regard  Science  with  so  much 
secret  alarm.  They  know  that  during  the  two  thousand  years 
of  its  growth  some  of  its  larger  divisions  — mathematics,  phys- 
ics, astronomy  — have  been  subject  to  the  rigorous  criticism  of 
successive  generations;  and  have  notwithstanding  become  ever 
more  firmly  established.  They  know  that,  unlike  many  of  their 
own  doctrines,  which  were  once  universally  received  but  have 
age  by  age  been  more  frequently  called  in  question,  the  doctrines 
of  Science,  at  first  confined  to  a few  scattered  inquirers,  have 
been  slowly  growing  into  general  acceptance,  and  are  now  in 
great  part  admitted  as  beyond  dispute.  They  know  that  men 
of  science  throughout  the  world  subject  each  other’s  results  to 
the  most  searching  examination;  and  that  error  is  mercilessly 
exposed  and  rejected  as  soon  as  discovered.  And,  finally,  they 
know  that  still  more  conclusive  testimony  is  to  be  found  in  the 
daily  verification  of  scientific  predictions,  and  in  the  never- 
ceasing  triumphs  of  those  arts  which  Science  guides. 

To  regard  with  alienation  that  which  has  such  high  creden- 
tials is  a folly.  Though  in  the  tone  which  many  of  the  scientific 


16 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


adopt  toward  them  the  defenders  of  Religion  may  find  some 
excuse  for  this  alienation;  yet  the  excuse  is  a very  insufficient 
one.  On  the  side  of  Science,  as  on  their  own  side,  they  must 
admit  that  shortcomings  in  the  advocates  do  not  tell  essentially 
against  that  which  is  advocated.  Science  must  be  judged  by 
itself ; and  so  judged,  only  the  most  perverted  intellect  can  fail 
to  see  that  it  is  wrorthy  of  all  reverence.  Be  there  or  be  there 
not  any  other  revelation,  we  have  a veritable  revelation  in 
Science  — a continuous  disclosure,  through  the  intelligence  with 
which  we  are  endowed,  of  the  established  order  of  the  Universe. 
This  disclosure  it  is  the  duty  of  every  one  to  verify  as  far  as  in 
him  lies;  and,  having  verified,  to  receive  with  all  humility. 

§ 6.  On  both  sides  of  this  great  controversy,  then,  truth  must 
exist.  An  unbiased  consideration  of  its  general  aspects  forces 
us  to  conclude  that  Religion,  everywhere  present  as  a weft  run- 
ning through  the  warp  of  human  history,  expresses  some  eternal 
fact;  while  it  is  almost  a truism  to  say  of  Science  that  it  is 
an  organized  mass  of  facts,  ever  growing,  and  ever  being  more 
completely  purified  from  errors.  And  if  both  have  bases  in  the 
reality  of  things,  then  between  them  there  must  be  a funda- 
mental harmony.  It  is  an  incredible  hypothesis  that  there  are 
two  orders  of  truth,  in  absolute  and  everlasting  opposition. 
Only  on  some  Manichean  theory,  which  among  ourselves  no  one 
dares  openly  avow,  however  much  his  beliefs  may  be  tainted  by 
it,  is  such  a supposition  even  conceivable.  That  Religion  is 
divine  and  Science  diabolical,  is  a proposition  which,  though 
implied  in  many  a clerical  declamation,  not  the  most  vehement 
fanatic  can  bring  himself  distinctly  to  assert.  And  whoever 
does  not  assert  this  must  admit  that  under  their  seeming  an- 
tagonism lies  hidden  an  entire  agreement. 

Each  side,  therefore,  has  to  recognize  the  claims  of  the  other 
as  standing  for  truths  that  are  not  to  be  ignored.  He  who  con- 
templates the  Universe  from  the  religious  point  of  view  must 
learn  to  see  that  this  which  we  call  Science  is  one  constituent 
of  the  great  whole;  and  as  such  ought  to  be  regarded  with  a 
sentiment  like  that  which  the  remainder  excites.  While  he  who 
contemplates  the  universe  from  the  scientific  point  of  view  must 
learn  to  see  that  this  which  we  call  Religion  is  similarly  a con- 
stituent of  the  great  whole ; and  being  such,  must  be  treated  as 


RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE 


17 


a subject  of  science  with  no  more  prejudice  than  any  other 
reality.  It  behooves  each  party  to  strive  to  understand  the  other, 
with  the  conviction  that  the  other  has  something  worthy  to  be 
understood;  and  with  the  conviction  that  when  mutually  recog- 
nized this  something  will  be  the  basis  of  a complete  reconcilia- 
tion. 

How  to  find  this  something  — how  to  reconcile  them,  thus 
becomes  the  problem  which  we  should  perseveringly  try  to  solve. 
Not  to  reconcile  them  in  any  makeshift  way — not  to  find  one 
of  those  compromises  we  hear  from  time  to  time  proposed, 
which  their  proposers  must  secretly  feel  are  artificial  and  tem- 
porary ; but  to  arrive  at  the  terms  of  a real  and  permanent  peace 
between  them.  The  thing  we  have  to  seek  out,  is  that  ultimate 
truth  which  both  will  avow  with  absolute  sincerity  — with  not 
the  remotest  mental  reservation.  There  shall  be  no  concession  — 
no  yielding  on  either  side  of  something  that  will  by  and  by  be 
reasserted;  but  the  common  ground  on  which  they  meet  shall 
be  one  which  each  will  maintain  for  itself.  We  have  to  discover 
some  fundamental  verity  which  Religion  will  assert,  with  all 
possible  emphasis,  in  the  absence  of  Science ; and  which  Science, 
with  all  possible  emphasis,  will  assert  in  the  absence  of  Religion 
— some  fundamental  verity  in  the  defence  of  which  each  will 
find  the  other  its  ally. 

Or,  changing  the  point  of  view,  our  aim  must  be  to  co-ordinate 
the  seemingly  opposed  convictions  which  Religion  and  Science 
embody.  From  the  coalescence  of  antagonist  ideas,  each  con- 
taining its  portion  of  truth,  there  always  arises  a higher  de- 
velopment. As  in  Geology  when  the  igneous  and  aqueous  hy- 
potheses were  united,  a rapid  advance  took  place;  as  in  Biology 
we  are  beginning  to  progress  through  the  fusion  of  the  doctrine 
of  types  with  the  doctrine  of  adaptations ; as  in  Psychology  the 
arrested  growdh  recommences  now  that  the  disciples  of  Kant 
and  those  of  Locke  have  both  their  views  recognized  in  the  theory 
that  organized  experiences  produce  forms  of  thought;  as  in 
Sociology,  now  that  it  is  beginning  to  assume  a positive  charac- 
ter, we  find  a recognition  of  both  the  party  of  progress  and  the 
party  of  order,  as  each  holding  a truth  which  forms  a needful 
complement  to  that  held  by  the  other ; so  must  it  be  on  a grander 
scale  with  Religion  and  Science.  Here,  too,  we  must  look  for 
a conception  which  combines  the  conclusions  of  both;  and  here, 


IS 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


too,  we  may  expect  important  results  from  their  combination. 
To  understand  how  Science  and  Religion  express  opposite  sides 
of  the  same  fact  — the  one  its  near  or  visible  side,  and  the  other 
its  remote  or  invisible  side  — this  it  is  which  we  must  attempt; 
and  to  achieve  this  must  profoundly  modify  our  general  Theory 
of  Things. 

Already  in  the  foregoing  pages  the  method  of  seeking  such 
a reconciliation  has  been  vaguely  foreshadowed.  Before  pro- 
ceeding further,  however,  it  will  be  well  to  treat  the  question  of 
method  more  definitely.  To  find  that  truth  in  which  Religion 
and  Science  coalesce,  we  must  know  in  what  direction  to  look 
for  it,  and  what  kind  of  truth  it  is  likely  to  be. 

§ 7.  We  have  found  d priori  reason  for  believing  that  in  all 
religions,  even  the  rudest,  there  lies  hidden  a fundamental  verity. 
We  have  inferred  that  this  fundamental  verity  is  that  element 
common  to  all  religions,  which  remains  after  their  discordant 
peculiarities  have  been  mutually  cancelled.  And  we  have  fur- 
ther inferred  that  this  element  is  almost  certain  to  be  more 
abstract  than  any  current  religious  doctrine.  Now  it  is  manifest 
that  only  in  some  highly  abstract  proposition  can  Religion  and 
Science  find  a common  ground.  Neither  such  dogmas  as  those 
of  the  trinitarian  and  Unitarian,  nor  any  such  idea  as  that  of 
propitiation,  common  though  it  may  be  to  all  religions,  can 
serve  as  the  desired  basis  of  agreement;  for  Science  cannot 
recognize  beliefs  like  these:  they  lie  beyond  its  sphere.  Hence 
we  see  not  only  that,  judging  by  analogy,  the  essential  truth 
contained  in  Religion  is  that  most  abstract  element  pervading 
all  its  forms ; but  also  that  this  most  abstract  element  is  the  only 
one  in  which  Religion  is  likely  to  agree  with  Science. 

Similarly  if  we  begin  at  the  other  end,  and  inquire  what 
scientific  truth  can  unite  Science  and  Religion.  It  is  at  once 
manifest  that  Religion  can  take  no  cognizance  of  special  scien- 
tific doctrines,  any  more  than  Science  can  take  cognizance  of 
special  religious  doctrines.  The  truth  which  Science  asserts  and 
Religion  indorses  cannot  be  one  furnished  by  mathematics ; nor 
can  it  be  a physical  truth ; nor  can  it  be  a truth  in  chemistry ; 
it  cannot  be  a truth  belonging  to  any  particular  science.  No 
generalization  of  the  phenomena  of  space,  of  time,  of  matter, 
nr  of  force,  can  become  a Religious  conception.  Such  a concep- 


RELIGION  AND  SCIENCE 


19 


tion,  if  it  anywhere  exists  in  Science,  must  be  more  general  than 
any  of  these  — must  be  one  underlying  all  of  them.  If  there 
be  a fact  which  Science  recognizes  in  common  with  Eeligion, 
it  must  be  that  fact  from  which  the  several  branches  of  Science 
diverge,  as  from  their  common  root. 

Assuming,  then,  that  since  these  two  great  realities  are  con- 
stituents of  the  same  mind,  and  respond  to  different  aspects  of 
the  same  Universe,  there  must  be  a fundamental  harmony  be- 
tween them,  we  see  good  reason  to  conclude  that  the  most  ab- 
stract truth  contained  in  Eeligion  and  the  most  abstract  truth 
contained  in  Science  must  be  the  one  in  which  the  two  coalesce. 
The  largest  fact  to  be  found  within  our  mental  range  must 
be  the  one  of  which  we  are  in  search.  Uniting  these  positive 
and  negative  poles  of  human  thought,  it  must  be  the  ultimate 
fact  in  our  intelligence. 

§ 8.  Before  proceeding  in  the  search  for  this  common  datum 
let  me  bespeak  a little  patience.  The  next  three  chapters,  setting 
out  from  different  points  and  converging  to  the  same  conclusion, 
will  be  comparatively  unattractive.  Students  of  philosophy  will 
find  in  them  much  that  is  more  or  less  familiar ; and  to  most  of 
those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  literature  of  modern 
metaphysics,  they  may  prove  somewhat  difficult  to  follow. 

Our  argument,  however,  cannot  dispense  with  these  chapters ; 
and  the  greatness  of  the  question  at  issue  justifies  even  a heavier 
tax  on  the  reader’s  attention.  The  matter  is  one  which  con- 
cerns each  and  all  of  us  more  than  any  other  matter  whatever. 
Though  it  affects  us  little  in  a direct  way,  the  view  we  arrive 
at  must  indirectly  affect  us  in  all  our  relations  — must  determine 
our  conception  of  the  Universe,  of  Life,  of  Human  Nature  — 
must  influence  our  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  and  so  modify  our 
conduct.  To  reach  that  point,  of  view  from  which  the  seeming 
discordance  of  Eeligion  and  Science  disappears,  and  the  two 
merge  into  one,  must  cause  a revolution  of  thought  fruitful  in 
beneficial  consequences,  and  must  surely  be  worth  an  effort. 

Here  ending  preliminaries,  let  us  now  address  ourselves  to 
this  all-important  inquiry. 


20 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTEE  II. 

ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS. 

§ 9.  When,  on  the  sea-shore,  we  note  how  the  hulls  of 
distant  vessels  are  hidden  below  the  horizon,  and  how,  of  still 
remoter  vessels,  only  the  uppermost  sails  are  visible,  we  realize 
with  tolerable  clearness  the  slight  curvature  of  that  portion 
of  the  sea’s  surface  which  lies  before  us.  But  when  we  seek 
in  imagination  to  follow  out  this  curved  surface  as  it  actually 
exists,  slowly  bending  round  until  all  its  meridians  meet  in 
a point  eight  thousand  miles  below  our  feet,  we  find  ourselves 
utterly  baffled.  We  cannot  conceive  in  its  real  form  and  magni- 
tude even  that  small  segment  of  our  globe  which  extends  a 
hundred  miles  on  every  side  of  us;  much  less  the  globe  as  a 
whole.  The  piece  of  rock  on  which  we  stand  can  be  mentally 
represented  with  something  like  completeness : we  find  ourselves 
able  to  think  of  its  top,  its  sides,  and  its  under  surface  at  the 
same  time;  or  so  nearly  at  the  same  time  that  they  seem  all 
present  in  consciousness  together;  and  so  we  can  form  what  we 
call  a conception  of  the  rock.  But  to  do  the  like  with  the 
Earth  we  find  impossible.  If  even  to  imagine  the  antipodes  as 
at  that  distant  place  in  space  which  it  actually  occupies,  is 
beyond  our  power;  much  more  beyond  our  power  must  it  be 
at  the  same  time  to  imagine  all  other  remote  points  on  the 
Earth’s  surface  as  in  their  actual  places.  Yet  we  habitually 
speak  as  though  we  had  an  idea  of  the  Earth  — as  though  we 
could  think  of  it  in  the  same  way  that  we  think  of  minor 
objects. 

What  conception,  then,  do  we  form  of  it?  the  reader  may 
ask.  That  its  name  calls  up  in  us  some  state  of  consciousness 
is  unquestionable ; and  if  this  state  of  consciousness  is  not  a 
conception,  properly  so  called,  what  is  it?  The  answer  seems 
to  be  this: — We  have  learned  by  indirect  methods  that  the 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 


21 


Earth  is  a sphere;  we  have  formed  models  approximately  rep- 
resenting its  shape  and  the  distribution  of  its  parts;  generally 
when  the  Earth  is  referred  to,  we  either  think  of  an  indefinitely 
extended  mass  beneath  our  feet,  or  else,  leaving  out  the  actual 
Earth,  we  think  of  a body  like  a terrestrial  globe;  but  when 
we  seek  to  imagine  the  Earth  as  it  really  is,  we  join  these  two 
ideas  as  well  as  we  can  — such  perception  as  our  eyes  give  us  of 
the  Earth’s  surface  we  couple  with  the  conception  of  a sphere. 
And  thus  we  form  of  the  Earth,  not  a conception  properly  so 
called,  but  only  a symbolic  conception1 

A large  proportion  of  our  conceptions,  including  all  those 
of  much  generality,  are  of  this  order.  Great  magnitudes,  great 
durations,  great  numbers,  are  none  of  them  actually  conceived, 
but  are  all  of  them  conceived  more  or  less  symbolically;  and 
so,  too,  are  all  those  classes  of  objects  of  which  we  predicate 
some  common  fact.  When  mention  is  made  of  any  individual 
man,  a tolerably  complete  idea  of  him  is  formed.  If  the 
family  he  belongs  to  be  spoken  of,  probably  but  a part  of  it  will 
be  represented  in  thought;  under  the  necessity  of  attending  to 
that  which  is  said  about  the  family,  we  realize  in  imagination 
only  its  most  important  or  familiar  members,  and  pass  over  the 
rest  with  a nascent  consciousness  which  we  know  could,  if 
requisite,  be  made  complete.  Should  something  be  remarked  of 
the  class,  say  farmers,  to  which  this  family  belongs,  we  neither 
enumerate  in  thought  all  the  individuals  contained  in  the  class, 
ncr  believe  that  we  could  do  so  if  required;  but  we  are  content 
with  taking  some  few  samples  of  it,  and  remembering  that  these 
could  be  indefinitely  multiplied.  Supposing  the  subject  of 
which  something  is  predicated  be  Englishmen,  the  answering 
state  of  consciousness  is  a still  more  inadequate  representative 
of  the  reality.  Yet  more  remote  is  the  likeness  of  the  thought 
to  the  thing,  if  reference  be  made  to  Europeans  or  to  human 
beings.  And  when  we  come  to  propositions  concerning  the 
mammalia,  or  concerning  the  whole  of  the  vertebrata,  or  con- 
cerning animals  in  general,  or  concerning  all  organic  beings, 
the  unlikeness  of  our  conceptions  to  the  objects  named  reaches 
its  extreme.  Throughout  which  series  of  instances  we  see,  that 
as  the  number  of  objects  grouped  together  in  thought  increases, 

1 Those  who  may  have  before  met  with  this  term  will  perceive  that 
it  is  here  used  in  quite  a different  sense. 


22 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  concept,  formed  of  a few  typical  samples  joined  with  the 
notion  of  multiplicity,  becomes  more  and  more  a mere  symbol; 
not  only  because  it  gradually  ceases  to  represent  the  size  of  the 
group,  but  also  because,  as  the  group  grows  more  heterogeneous, 
the  typical  samples  thought  of  are  less  like  the  average  objects 
which  the  group  contains. 

This  formation  of  symbolic  conceptions,  which  inevitably 
arises  as  we  pass  from  small  and  concrete  objects  to  large  and 
to  discrete  ones,  is  mostly  a very  useful,  and  indeed  necessary, 
process.  When,  instead  of  things  whose  attributes  can  be 
tolerably  well  united  in  a single  state  of  consciousness,  we 
have  to  deal  with  things  whose  attributes  are  too  vast 
or  numerous  to  be  so  united,  we  must  either  drop  in  thought 
part  of  their  attributes,  or  else  not  think  of  them  at  all  — 
either  form  a more  or  less  symbolic  conception,  or  no  conception. 
We  must  predicate  nothing  of  objects  too  great  or  too  multitud- 
inous to  be  mentally  represented;  or  we  must'  make  our  predi- 
cations by  the  help  of  extremely  inadequate  representations  of 
such  objects  — mere  symbols  of  them. 

But  while  by  this  process  alone  we  are  enabled  to  form 
general  propositions,  and  so  to  reach  general  conclusions,  we 
are  by  this  process  perpetually  led  into  danger,  and  very  often 
into  error.  We  habitually  mistake  our  symbolic  conceptions 
for  real  ones ; and  so  are  betrayed  into  countless  false  inferences. 
Not  only  is  it  that  in  proportion  as  the  concept  we  form  of  any 
thing  or  class  of  things,  misrepresents  the  reality,  we  are  apt 
to  be  wrong  in  any  assertion  we  make  respecting  the  reality; 
but  it  is  that  we  are  led  to  suppose  we  have  truly  conceived 
a great  variety  of  things  which  we  have  conceived  only  in  this 
fictitious  way;  and  further  to  confound  with  these  certain 
things  which  cannot  be  conceived  in  any  way.  How  almost 
unavoidably  we  fall  into  this  error  it  will  be  needful  here  to 
observe. 

From  objects  readily  representable  in  their  totality,  to  those 
of  which  we  cannot  form  even  an  approximate  representation, 
there  is  an  insensible  transition.  Between  a pebble  and  the 
entire  Earth  a series  of  magnitudes  might  be  introduced,  each 
of  which  differed  from  the  adjacent  ones  so  slightly  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  say  at  what  point  in  the  series  our  con- 
ceptions of  them  became  inadequate.  Similarly,  there  is  a 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 


23 


gradual  progression  from  those  groups  of  a few  individuals 
which  we  can  think  of  as  groups  with  tolerable  completeness, 
to  those  larger  and  larger  groups  of  which  we  can  form  nothing 
like  true  ideas.  Whence  it  is  manifest  that  we  pass  from  actual 
conceptions  to  symbolic  ones  by  infinitesimal  steps.  Note  nest 
that  we  are  led  to  deal  with  our  symbolic  conceptions  as  though 
they  were  actual  ones,  not  only  because  we  cannot  clearly  sepa- 
rate the  two,  but  also  because,  in  the  great  majority  of  cases, 
the  first  serve  our  purposes  nearly  or  quite  as  well  as  the  last 
— are  simply  the  abbreviated  signs  we  substitute  for  those  more 
elaborate  signs  which  are  our  equivalents  for  real  objects.  Those 
very  imperfect  representations  of  ordinary  things  which  we 
habitually  make  in  thinking  we  know  can  be  developed  into 
adequate  ones  if  needful.  Those  concepts  of  larger  magnitudes 
and  more  extensive  classes  which  we  cannot  make  adequate,  we 
still  find  can  be  verified  by  some  indirect  process  of  measure- 
ment or  enumeration.  And  even  in  the  case  of  such  an  utterly 
inconceivable  object  as  the  Solar  System,  we  yet,  through  the 
fulfilment  of  predictions  founded  on  our  symbolic  conception 
of  it,  gain  the  conviction  that  this  symbolic  conception  stands 
for  an  actual  existence,  and,  in  a sense,  truly  expresses  certain 
of  its  constituent  relations.  Thus  our  symbolic  conceptions  being 
in  the  majority  of  cases  capable  of  development  into  complete 
ones,  and  in  most  other  cases  serving  as  steps  to  conclusions 
which  are  proved  valid  by  their  correspondence  with  observation, 
we  acquire  a confirmed  habit  of  dealing  with  them  as  true 
conceptions  — as  real  representations  of  actualities.  Learning 
by  long  experience  that  they  can,  if  needful,  be  verified,  we 
are  led  habitually  to  accept  them  without  verification.  And 
thus  we  open  the  door  to  some  which  profess  to  stand  for 
known  things,  but  which  really  stand  for  things  that  cannot  be 
known  in  any  way. 

To  sum  up,  we  must  say  of  conceptions  in  general,  that  they 
are  complete  only  when  the  attributes  of  the  object  conceived 
are  of  such  number  and  kind  that  they  can  be  represented  in 
consciousness  so  nearly  at  the  same  time  as  to  seem  all  present 
together;  th't  as  the  objects  conceived  become  larger  and  more 
complex,  some  of  the  attributes  first  thought  of  fade  from 
consciousness  before  the  rest  have  been  represented,  and  the 
Conception  thus  becomes  imperfect;  that  when  the  size,  com- 


24 


FIRST  TRINCirLES 


plexity,  or  discreteness  of  the  object  conceived  becomes  very 
great,  only  a small  portion  of  its  attributes  can  be  thought  of  at 
once,  and  the  conception  formed  of  it  thus  becomes  so  inade- 
quate as  to  be  a mere  symbol;  that  nevertheless  such  symbolic 
conceptions,  which  are  indispensable  in  general  thinking,  are 
legitimate,  provided  that  by  some  cumulative  or  indirect  process 
of  thought,  or  by  the  fulfilment  of  predictions  based  on  them, 
we  can  assure  ourselves  that  they  stand  for  actualities ; but  that 
when  our  symbolic  conceptions  are  such  that  no  cumulative  or 
indirect  processes  of  thought  can  enable  us  to  ascertain  that 
there  are  corresponding  actualities,  nor  any  predictions  be  made 
whose  fulfilment  can  prove  this,  then  they  are  altogether  vicious 
and  illusive,  and  in  no  way  distinguishable  from  pure  fictions. 

§ 10.  And  now  to  consider  the  bearings  of  this  general 
truth  on  our  immediate  topic  — Ultimate  Religious  Ideas. 

To  the  primitive  man  sometimes  happens  things  which  are 
out  of  the  ordinary  course  — diseases,  storms,  earthquakes, 
echoes,  eclipses.  From  dreams  arises  the  idea  of  a wandering 
double;  whence  follows  the  belief  that  the  double,  departing 
permanently  at  death,  is  then  a ghost.  Ghosts  thus  become 
assignable  causes  for  strange  occurrences.  The  greater  ghosts 
are  presently  supposed  to  have  extended  spheres  of  action.  As 
men  grow  intelligent  the  conceptions  of  these  minor  invisible 
agencies  merge  into  the  conception  of  a universal  invisible 
agency;  and  there  result  hypotheses  concerning  the  origin,  not  of 
special  incidents  only,  but  of  things  in  general. 

A critical  examination,  however,  will  prove  not  only  that 
no  current  hypothesis  is  tenable,  but  also  that  no  tenable  hy- 
pothesis can  be  framed. 

§ li.  Respecting  the  origin  of  the  Universe  three  verbally 
intelligible  suppositions  may  be  made.  We  may  assert  that 
it  is  self-existent ; or  that  it  is  self-created ; or  that  it  is  created 
by  an  external  agency.  Which  of  these  suppositions  is  most 
credible  it  is  not  needful  here  to  inquire.  The  deeper  question, 
into  which  this  finally  merges  is,  whether  any  one  of  them  is 
even  conceivable  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word.  Let  us  suc- 
cessively test  them. 

When  we  speak  of  a man  as  self-supporting,  of  an  apparatus 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 


25 


as  self-acting,  or  of  a tree  as  self-developed,  onr  expressions, 
however  inexact,  stand  for  things  that  can  be  realized  in 
thought  with  tolerable  completeness.  Our  conception  of  the 
self-development  of  a tree  is  doubtless  symbolic.  But  though 
we  cannot  really  represent  in  consciousness  the  entire  series  of 
complex  changes  through  which  the  tree  passes,  yet  we  can  thus 
represent  the  leading  features  of  the  series;  and  general  ex- 
perience teaches  us  that  by  long  continued  observation  we  could 
gain  the  power  to'  realize  in  thought  a series  of  changes  more 
fully  representing  the  actual  series;  that  is,  we  know  that  our 
symbolic  conception  of  self-development  can  be  expanded  into 
something  like  a real  conception ; and  that  it  expresses,  however 
inaccurately,  an  actual  process  in  nature.  But  when  we  speak  of 
self-existence,  and,  helped  by  the  above  analogies,  form  some 
vague  symbolic  conception  of  it,  we  delude  ourselves  in  supposing 
that  this  symbolic  conception  is  of  the  same  order  as  the  others. 
On  joining  the  word  self  to  the  word  existence , the  force  of 
association  makes  us  believe  we  have  a thought  like  that  sug- 
gested by  the  compound  word  self-acting.  An  endeavor  to  ex- 
pand this  symbolic  conception,  however,  will  undeceive  us.  In 
the  first  place,  it  is  clear  that  by  self-existence  we  especially 
mean  an  existence  independent  of  any  other  — not  produced  by 
any  other:  the  assertion  of  self-existence  is  simply  an  indirect 
denial  of  creation.  In  thus  excluding  the  idea  of  any  antecedent 
cause,  we  necessarily  exclude  the  idea  of  a beginning;  for  to 
admit  the  idea  of  a beginning  — to  admit  that  there  was  a 
time  when  the  existence  had  not  commenced  — is  to  admit  that 
its  commencement  was  determined  by  something,  or  was  caused ; 
which  is  a contradiction.  Self-existence,  therefore,  necessarily 
means  existence  without  a beginning;  and  to  form  a conception 
of  self-existence  is  to  form  a conception  of  existence  without  a 
beginning.  Now  by  no  mental  effort  can  we  do  this.  To  con- 
ceive existence  through  infinite  past-time  implies  the  conception 
of  infinite  past-time,  which  is  an  impossibility.  To  this  let  us 
add  that,  even  were  self-existence  conceivable,  it  would  not  in  any 
sense  be  an  explanation  of  the  Universe.  No  one  will  say  that 
the  existence  of  an  object  at  the  present  moment  is  made  easier 
to  understand  by  the  discovery  that  it  existed  an  hour  ago,  or 
a day  ago,  or  a year  ago;  and  if  its  existence  now  is  not  made 
in  the  least  degree  more  comprehensible  by  its  existence  during 


26 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


some  previous  finite  period  of  time,  then  no  accumulation  of 
such  finite  periods,  even  could  we  extend  them  to  an  infinite 
period,  would  make  it  more  comprehensible.  Thus  the  Atheistic 
theory  is  not  only  absolutely  unthinkable,  but,  even  if  it  were 
thinkable,  would  not  be  a solution.  The  assertion  that  the 
Universe  is  self-existent  does  not  really  carry  us  a step  beyond 
the  cognition  of  its  present  existence;  and  so  leaves  us  with  a 
mere  restatement  of  the  mystery. 

The  hypothesis  of  self-creation,  which  practically  amounts 
to  what  is  called  Pantheism,  is  similarly  incapable  of  being  rep- 
resented in  thought.  Certain  phenomena,  such  as  the  precip- 
itation of  invisible  vapor  into  cloud,  aid  us  in  forming  a sym- 
bolic conception  of  a self-evolved  Universe;  and  there  are  not 
wanting  indications  in  the  heavens,  and  on  the  earth,  which  help 
us  to  render  this  conception  tolerably  definite.  But  while  the 
succession  of  phases  through  which  the  Universe  has  passed  in 
reaching  its  present  form  may  perhaps  be  comprehended  as 
in  a sense  self-determined;  yet  the  impossibility  of  expanding 
our  symbolic  conception  of  self-creation  into  a real  conception, 
remains  as  complete  as  ever.  Eeally  to  conceive  self-creation  is 
to  conceive  potential  existence  passing  into  actual  existence  by 
some  inherent  necessity;  which  we  cannot  do.  We  cannot  form 
any  idea  of  a.  potential  existence  of  the  universe,  as  distinguished 
from  its  actual  existence.  If  represented  in  thought  at  all,  po- 
tential existence  must  be  represented  as  something , that  is  as  an 
actual  existence ; to  suppose  that  it  can  be  represented  as  nothing, 
involves  two  absurdities  — that  nothing  is  more  than  a negation, 
and  can  be  positively  represented  in  thought ; and  that  one  noth- 
ing is  distinguished  from  all  other  nothings  by  its  power  to  de- 
velop into  something.  Nor  is  this  all.  We  have  no  state  of  con- 
sciousness answering  to  the  words  — an  inherent  necessity  by 
which  potential  existence  became  actual  existence.  To  render 
them  into  thought,  existence,  having  for  an  indefinite  period  re- 
mained in  one  form,  must  be  conceived  as  passing,  without  any 
external  or  additional  impulse,  into  another  form ; and  this  in- 
volves the  idea  of  a change  without  a cause  — a thing  of  which 
no  idea  is  possible.  Thus  the  terms  of  this  hypothesis  do  not 
stand  for  real  thoughts ; but  merely  suggest  the  vaguest  symbols, 
incapable  of  any  interpretation.  Moreover,  even  were  it  true 
that  potential  existence  is  conceivable  as  a different  thing  from 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 


27 


actual  existence,  and  that  the  transition  from  the  one  to  the 
other  can  be  mentally  realized  as  a self-determined  change,  we 
should  still  be  no  forwarder;  the  problem  would  simply  be  re- 
moved a step  back.  For  whence  the  potential  existence?  This 
would  just  as  much  require  accounting  for  as  actual  existence; 
and  just  the  same  difficulties  would  meet  us.  Eespecting  the 
origin  of  such  a latent  power,  no  other  suppositions  could  be 
made  than  those  above  named  — self-existence,  self-creation, 
creation  by  external  agency.  The  self -existence  of  a potential 
universe  is  no  more  conceivable  than  we  have  found  the  self- 
existence of  the  actual  universe  to  be.  The  self-creation  of  such 
a potential  universe  would  involve  over  again  the  difficulties  here 
stated  — would  imply  behind  this  potential  universe  a more 
remote  potentiality ; and  so  on  in  an  infinite  series,  leaving  us  at 
last  no  forwarder  than  at  first.  While  to  assign  as  the  source  of 
this  potential  universe  an  external  agency,  would  be  to  introduce 
the  notion  of  a potential  universe  for  no  purpose  whatever. 

There  remains  to  be  examined  the  commonly-received  or  the- 
istic  hypothesis  — creation  by  external  agency.  Alike  in  the 
rudest  creeds  and  in  the  cosmogony  long  current  among  our- 
selves, it  is  assumed  that  the  genesis  of  the  Heavens  and  the 
Earth  is  effected  somewhat  after  the  manner  in  which  a work- 
man shapes  a piece  of  furniture.  And  this  assumption  is  made 
not  by  theologians  only,  but  by  the  immense  majority  of  philos- 
ophers, past  and  present.  Equally  in  the  writings  of  Plato,  and 
in  those  of  not  a few  living  men  of  science,  we  find  it  taken  for 
granted  that  there  is  an  analogy  between  the  process  of  creation 
and  the  process  of  manufacture.  Now  in  the  first  place,  not  only 
is  this  conception  one  that  cannot  by  any  cumulative  process  of 
thought,  or  the  fulfilment  of  predictions  based  on  it,  be  shown  to 
answer  to  anything  actual;  and  not  only  is  it  that,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  all  evidence  respecting  the  process  of  creation,  we  have 
no  proof  of  correspondence  even  between  this  limited  conception 
and  some  limited  portion  of  the  fact;  but  it  is  that  the  con- 
ception is  not  even  consistent  with  itself  — cannot  be  realized  in 
thought,  when  all  its  assumptions  are  granted.  Though  it  is  true 
that  the  proceedings  of  a human  artificer  may  vaguely  symbolize 
to  us  a method  after  which  the  Universe  might  be  shaped,  yet 
they  do  not  help  us  to  comprehend  the  real  mystery;  namely,  the 
origin  of  the  material  of  which  the  Universe  consists.  The  arti- 


28 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


sail  does  not  make  the  iron,  wood,  or  stone  he  uses ; but  merely 
fashions  and  combines  them.  If  we  suppose  suns,  and  planets, 
and  satellites,  and  all  they  contain,  to  have  been  similarly  formed 
by  a “ Great  Artificer,”  we  suppose  merely  that  certain  pre-exist- 
ing elements  were  thus  put 'into  their  present  arrangement.  But 
whence  the  pre-existing  elements  ? The  comparison  helps  us  not 
in  the  least  to  understand  that;  and  unless  it  helps  us  to  under- 
stand that,  it  is  worthless.  The  production  of  matter  out  of 
nothing  is  the  real  mystery,  which  neither  this  simile  nor  any 
other  enables  us  to  conceive ; and  a simile  which  does  not  enable 
us  to  conceive  this  may  just  as  wrell  be  dispensed  with.  Still  more 
manifest  does  the  insufficiency  of  this  theory  of  creation  become, 
when  we  turn  from  material  objects  to  that  which  contains  them 
— when  instead  of  matter  we  contemplate  space.  Did  there 
exist  nothing  but  an  immeasurable  void,  explanation  would  be 
needed  as  much  as  now.  There  would  still  arise  the  question  — 
how  came  it  so?  If  the  theory  of  creation  by  external  agency 
were  an  adequate  one,  it  would  supply  an  answer ; and  its  answer 
would  be  — space  was  made  in  the  same  manner  that  matter  was 
made.  But  the  impossibility  of  conceiving  this  is  so  manifest, 
that  no  one  dares  to  assert  it.  For  if  space  was  created,  it  must 
have  been  previously  non-existent.  The  non-existence  of  space 
cannot,  however,  by  any  mental  effort  be  imagined.  It  is  one  of 
the  most  familiar  truths  that  the  idea  of  space  as  surrounding 
us,  on  all  sides,  is  not  for  a moment  to  be  got  rid  of  — not  only 
are  we  compelled  to  think  of  space  as  now  everywhere  present, 
but  we  are  unable  to  conceive  its  absence  either  in  the  past  or 
the  future.  And  if  the  non-existence  of  space  is  absolutely  in- 
conceivable, then,  necessarily,  its  creation  is  absolutely  incon- 
ceivable. Lastly,  even  supposing  that  the  genesis  of  the  Universe 
could  really  be  represented  in  thought  as  the  result  of  an  external 
agency,  the  mystery  would  be  as  great  as  ever;  for  there  would 
still  arise  the  question  — Flow  came  there  to  he  an  external 
agency?  To  account  for  this  only  the  same  three  hypotheses  are 
possible  — self-existence,  self-creation,  and  creation  by  external 
agency.  Of  these  the  last  is  useless : it  commits  us  to  an  infinite 
series  of  such  agencies,  and  even  then  leaves  us  where  we  were. 
By  the  second  we  are  practically  involved  in  the  same  predica- 
ment; since,  as  already  shown,  self-creation  implies  an  infinite 
series  of  potential  existences.  We  are  obliged,  therefore,  to  fall 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 


29 


back  upon  the  first,  which  is  the  one  commonly  accepted  and  com- 
monly supposed  to  be  satisfactory.  Those  who  cannot  conceive 
a self-existent  universe,  and  who  therefore  assume  a creator  as 
the  source  of  the  universe,  take  for  granted  that  they  can  conceive 
a self-existent  creator.  The  mystery  which  they  recognize  in 
this  great  fact  surrounding  them  on  every  side,  they  transfer  to 
an  alleged  source  of  this  great  fact;  and  then  suppose  that  they 
have  solved  the  mystery.  But  they  delude  themselves.  As  was 
proved  at  the  outset  of  the  argument,  self-existence  is  rigorously 
inconceivable ; and  this  holds  true  whatever  be  the  nature  of  the 
object  of  which  it  is  predicated.  Whoever  agrees  that  the  athe- 
istic hypothesis  is  untenable  because  it  involves  the  impossible 
idea  of  self-existence,  must  perforce  admit  that  the  theistic  hy- 
pothesis is  untenable  if  it  contains  the  same  impossible  idea. 

Thus  these  three  different  suppositions  respecting  the  origin 
of  things,  verbally  intelligible  though  they  are,  and  severally 
seeming  to  their  respective  adherents  quite  rational,  turn  out, 
when  critically  examined,  to  be  literally  unthinkable.  It  is  not  a 
question  of  probability,  or  credibility,  but  of  conceivability.  Ex- 
periment proves  that  the  elements  of  these  hypotheses  cannot 
even  be  put  together  in  consciousness ; and  we  can  entertain  them 
only  as  we  entertain  such  pseud-ideas  as  a square  fluid  and  a 
moral  substance  — only  by  abstaining  from  the  endeavor  to  ren- 
der them  into  actual  thoughts.  Or,  reverting  to  our  original 
mode  of  statement  we  may  say  that  they  severally  involve  sym- 
bolic conceptions  of  the  illegitimate  and  illusive  kind.  Differing 
so  widely  as  they  seem  to  do,  the  atheistic,  the  pantheistic,  and 
the  theistic  hypotheses  contain  the  same  ultimate  element.  It 
is  impossible  to  avoid  making  the  assumption  of  self-existence 
somewhere;  and  whether  that  assumption  be  made  nakedly,  or 
under  complicated  disguises,  it  is  equally  vicious,  equally  unthink- 
able. Be  it  a fragment  of  matter,  or  some  fancied  potential  form 
of  matter,  or  some  more  remote  and  still  less  imaginable  cause, 
our  conception  of  its  self-existence  can  be  formed  only  by  joining 
with  it  the  notion  of  unlimited  duration  through  past  time.  And 
as  unlimited  duration  is  inconceivable,  all  those  formal  ideas  into 
which  it  enters  are  inconceivable;  and  indeed,  if  such  an  expres- 
sion is  allowable,  are  the  more  inconceivable  in  proportion  as  the 
other  elements  of  the  ideas  are  indefinite.  So  that  in  fact,  im- 
possible as  it  is  to  think  of  the  actual  universe  as  self-existing. 


BO 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


we  do  but  multiply  impossibilities  of  thought  by  every  attempt 
we  make  to  explain  its  existence. 

§ 12.  If  from  the  origin  of  the  Universe  we  turn  to  its  na- 
ture, the  like  insurmountable  difficulties  rise  up  before  us  on  all 
sides  — or,  rather,  the  same  difficulties  under  new  aspects.  We 
find  ourselves  on  the  one  hand  obliged  to  make  certain  assump- 
tions ; and  yet  on  the  other  hand  we  find  these  assumptions  can- 
not be  represented  in  thought. 

When  we  inquire  what  is  the  meaning  of  the  various  effects 
produced  upon  our  senses  — when  we  ask  how  there  come  to 
be  in  our  consciousness  impressions  of  sounds,  of  colors,  of 
tastes,  and  of  those  various  attributes  which  we  ascribe  to  bodies 
— we  are  compelled  to  regard  them  as  the  effects  of  some  cause. 
We  may  stop  short  in  the  belief  that  this  cause  is  what  we  call 
matter.  Or  we  may  conclude,  as  some  do,  that  matter  is  only  a 
certain  mode  of  manifestation  of  spirit;  which  is  therefore  the 
true  cause.  Or,  regarding  matter  and  spirit  as  proximate  agen- 
cies, we  may  attribute  all  the  changes  wrought  in  our  conscious- 
ness to  immediate  divine  power.  But  be  the  cause  we  assign  what 
it  may,  we  are  obliged  to  suppose  some  cause.  And  we  are  not 
only  obliged  to  suppose  some  cause,  but  also  a first  cause.  The 
matter,  or  spirit,  or  whatever  we  assume  to  be  the  agent  produc- 
ing on  us  these  various  impressions,  must  either  be  the  first  cause 
of  them  or  not.  If  it  is  not  the  first  cause,  the  conclusion  is 
reached.  If  it  is  not  the  first  cause,  then  by  implication  there 
must  be  a cause  behind  it;  which  thus  becomes  the  real  cause 
of  the  effect.  Manifestly,  however  complicated  the  assumptions, 
the  same  conclusion  must  inevitably  be  reached.  We  cannot 
think  at  all  about  the  impressions  which  the  external  world  pro- 
duces on  us,  without  thinking  of  them  as  caused ; and  we  cannot 
carry  out  an  inquiry  concerning  their  causation,  without  inevit- 
ably committing  ourselves  to  the  hypothesis  of  a First  Cause. 

But  now  if  we  go  a step  further,  and  ask  what  is  the  nature 
of  this  First  Cause,  we  are  driven  by  an  inexorable  logic  to 
certain  further  conclusions.  Is  the  First  Cause  finite  or  infinite  ? 
If  we  say  finite  we  involve  ourselves  in  a dilemma.  To  think  of 
the  First  Cause  as  finite,  is  to  think  of  it  as  limited.  To  think 
of  it  as  limited,  necessarily  implies  a conception  of  something  be- 
yond its  limits;  it  is  absolutely  impossible  to  conceive  a thing 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 


31 


as  bounded  without  conceiving  a region  surrounding  its  bounda- 
ries. What  now  must  we  say  of  this  region  ? If  the  hirst  Cause 
is  limited,  and  there  consequently  lies  something  outside  of  it, 
this  something  must  have  no  First  Cause — -must  be  uncaused. 
But  if  we  admit  that  there  can  be  something  uncaused,  there 
is  no  reason  to  assume  a cause  for  anything.  If  beyond  that 
finite  region  over  which  the  First  Cause  extends,  there  lies  a re- 
gion, which  we  are  compelled  to  regard  as  infinite,  over  which  it 
does  not  extend  - — • if  we  admit  that  there  is  an  infinite  uncaused 
surrounding  the  finite  caused  — we  tacitly  abandon  the  hypothe- 
sis of  causation  altogether.  Thus  it  is  impossible  to  consider  the 
First  Cause  as  finite.  And  if  it  cannot  be  finite  it  must  be  in- 
finite. 

Another  inference  concerning  the  First  Cause  is  equally  un- 
avoidable. It  must  be  independent.  If  it  is  dependent  it  cannot 
be  the  First  Cause ; for  that  must  be  the  First  Cause  on  which  it 
depends.  It  is  not  enough  to  sa}r  that  it  is  partially  independent ; 
since  this  implies  some  necessity  which  determines  its  partial 
dependence,  and  this  necessity,  be  it  what  it  may,  must  be  a 
higher  cause,  or  the  true  First  Cause,  which  is  a contradiction. 
But  to  think  of  the  First  Cause  as  totally  independent,  is  to 
think  of  it  as  that  which  exists  in  the  absence  of  all  other  ex- 
istence; seeing  that  if  the  presence  of  any  other  existence  is 
necessary,  it  must  be  partially  dependent  on  that  other  existence, 
and  so  cannot  be  the  First  Cause.  Not  only,  however,  must  the 
First  Cause  be  a form  of  being  which  has  no  necessary  relation 
to  any  other  form  of  being,  but  it  can  have  no  necessary  relation 
within  itself.  There  can  be  nothing  in  it  which  determines 
change,  and  yet  nothing  which  prevents  change.  For  if  it  con- 
tains something  which  imposes  such  necessities  or  restraints,  this 
something  must  be  a cause  higher  than  the  First  Cause,  which 
is  absurd.  Thus  the  First  Cause  must  be  in  every  sense  perfect, 
complete,  total ; including  within  itself  all  power,  and  transcend- 
ing all  law.  Or,  to  use  the  established  word,  it  must  be  absolute. 

Here  then  respecting  the  nature  of  the  Universe,  we  seem 
committed  to  certain  unavoidable  conclusions.  The  objects  and 
actions  surrounding  us,  not  less  than  the  phenomena  of  our  own 
consciousness,  compel  us  to  ask  a cause ; in  our  search  for  a cause, 
we  discover  no  resting-place  until  we  arrive  at  the  hypothesis  of 
a First  Cause;  and  we  have  no  alternative  but  to  regard  tbi? 


32 


First  principles 


First  Cause  as  Infinite  and  Absolute.  These  are  inferences 
forced  upon  us  by  arguments  from  which  there  appears  no  es- 
cape. It  is  hardly  needful,  however,  to  show  those  who  have 
followed  thus  far  how  illusive  are  these  reasonings  and  their  re- 
sults. But  that  it  would  tax  the  reader’s  patience  to  no  pur- 
pose, it  might  easily  be  proved  that  the  materials  of  which  the 
argument  is  built,  equally  with  the  conclusions  based  on  them, 
are  merely  symbolic  conceptions  of  the  illegitimate  order.  In- 
stead, however,  of  repeating  the  disproof  used  above,  it  will  be 
desirable  to  pursue  another  method ; showing  the  fallacy  of  these 
conclusions,  by  disclosing  their  mutual  contradictions. 

Here  I cannot  do  better  than  avail  myself  of  the  demonstra- 
tion which  Mr.  Mansel,  carrying  out  in  detail  the  doctrine  of 
Sir  William  Hamilton,  has  given  in  his  “ Limits  of  Religious 
Thought.”  And  I gladly  do  this,  not  only  because  his  mode  of 
presentation  cannot  be  improved,  but  also  because,  writing  as  he 
does  in  defence  of  the  current  Theology,  his  reasonings  will  be 
the  more  acceptable  to  the  majority  of  readers. 

§ 13.  Having  given  preliminary  definitions  of  the  First 
Cause,  of  the  Infinite,  and  of  the  Absolute,  Mr.  Mansel  says : 

“ But  these  three  conceptions,  the  Cause,  the  Absolute,  the 
Infinite,  all  equally  indispensable,  do  they  not  imply  contradic- 
tion to  each  other,  when  viewed  in  conjunction,  as  attributes  of 
one  and  the  same  Being  ? A Cause  cannot,  as  such,  be  absolute ; 
the  Absolute  cannot,  as  such,  be  a cause.  The  cause,  as  such, 
exists  only  in  relation  to  its  effect:  the  cause  is  a cause  of  the 
effect ; the  effect  is  an  effect  of  the  cause.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
conception  of  the  Absolute  implies  a possible  existence  out  of  all 
relation.  We  attempt  to  escape  from  this  apparent  contradiction, 
by  introducing  the  idea  of  succession  in  time.  The  Absolute 
exists  first  by  itself,  and  afterward  becomes  a Cause.  But  here 
we  are  checked  by  the  third  conception,  that  of  the  Infinite. 
How  can  the  Infinite  become  that  which  it  was  not  from  the 
first?  If  Causation  is  a possible  mode  of  existence,  that  which 
exists  without  causing  is  not  infinite;  that  which  becomes  a 
cause  has  passed  beyond  its  former  limits.  . . . 

“ Supposing  the  Absolute  to  become  a cause,  it  will  follow 
that  it  operates  by  means  of  freewill  and  consciousness.  For  a 
necessary  cause  cannot  lie  conceived  as  absolute  and  infinite.  If 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 


33 


necessitated  by  something  beyond  itself,  it  is  thereby  limited  by 
a superior  power;  and  if  necessitated  by  itself,  it  has  in  its  own 
nature  a necessary  relation  to  its  effect.  The  act  of  causation 
must  therefore  be  voluntary;  and  volition  is  only  possible  in  a 
conscious  being.  But  consciousness  again  is  only  conceivable  as 
a relation.  There  must  be  a conscious  subject,  and  an  object  of 
which  he  is  conscious.  The  subject  is  a subject  to  the  object ; the 
object  is  an  object  to  the  subject;  and  neither  can  exist  by  it- 
self as  the  Absolute.  This  difficulty,  again,  may  be  for  the  mo- 
ment evaded,  by  distinguishing  between  the  Absolute  as  related 
to  another  and  the  Absolute  as  related  to  itself.  The  Absolute, 
it  may  be  said,  may  possibly  be  conscious,  provided  it  is  only 
conscious  of  itself.  But  this  alternative  is,  in  ultimate  analysis, 
no  less  self-destructive  than  the  other.  For  the  object  of  con- 
sciousness, whether  a mode  of  the  subject’s  existence  or  not,  is 
either  created  in  and  by  the  act  of  consciousness,  or  has  an  ex- 
istence independent  of  it.  In  the  former  case,  the  object  depends 
upon  the  subject,  and  the  subject  alone  is  the  true  Absolute.  In 
the  latter  case,  the  subject  depends  upon  the  object,  and  the  ob- 
ject alone  is  the  true  Absolute.  Or  if  we  attempt  a third  hypoth- 
esis, and  maintain  that  each  exists  independently  of  the  other,  we 
have  no  Absolute  at  all,  but  only  a pair  of  relatives ; for  co-exist- 
ence, whether  in  consciousness  or  not,  is  itself  a relation. 

“The  corollary  from  this  reasoning  is  obvious.  Not  only  is 
the  Absolute,  as  conceived,  incapable  of  a necessary  relation  to 
anything  else ; but  it  is  also  incapable  of  containing,  by  the  con- 
stitution of  its  own  nature,  an  essential  relation  within  itself ; as 
a whole,  for  instance,  composed  of  parts,  or  as  a substance  con- 
sisting of  attributes,  or  as  a conscious  subject  in  antithesis  to  an 
object.  For  if  there  is  in  the  Absolute  any  principle  of  unity, 
distinct  from  the  mere  accumulation  of  parts  or  attributes,  this 
principle  alone  is  the  true  Absolute.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  there 
is  no  such  principle,  then  there  is  no  Absolute  at  all,  but  only  a 
plurality  of  relatives.  The  almost  unanimous  voice  of  philos-  ' 
ophy,  in  pronouncing  that  the  Absolute  is  both  one  and  simple, 
must  be  accepted  as  the  voice  of  reason  also,  so  far  as  reason  has 
any  voice  in  the  matter.  But  this  absolute  unity,  as  indifferent 
and  containing  no  attributes,  can  neither  be  distinguished  from 
the  multiplicity  of  finite  beings  by  any  characteristic  feature,  nor 
be  identified  with  them  in  their  multiplicity.  Thus  we  are 


34 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


landed  in  an  inextricable  dilemma.  The  Absolute  cannot  be 
conceived  as  conscious,  neither  can  it  be  conceived  as  uncon- 
scious : it  cannot  be  conceived  as  complex,  neither  can  it  be  con- 
ceived as  simple:  it  cannot  be  conceived  by  difference,  neither 
can  it  be  conceived  by  the  absence  of  difference,  it  cannot  be 
identified  with  the  universe,  neither  can  it  be  distinguished  from 
it.  The  One  and  the  Many,  regarded  as  the  beginning  of  exist- 
ence, are  thus  alike  incomprehensible. 

“ The  fundamental  conceptions  of  Rational  Theology  being 
thus  self-destructive,  we  may  naturally  expect  to  find  the  same 
antagonism  manifested  in  their  special  applications.  . . . 
How,  for  example,  can  Infinite  Power  be  able  to  do  all  things, 
and  yet  Infinite  Goodness  be  unable  to  do  evil?  How  can  In- 
finite Justice  exact  the  utmost  penalty  for  every  sin,  and  yet  In- 
finite Mercy  pardon  the  sinner?  How  can  Infinite  Wisdom 
know  all  that  is  to  come,  and  yet  Infinite  Freedom  be  at  liberty 
to  do  or  to  forbear?  How  is  the  existence  of  Evil  compatible 
with  that  of  an  infinitely  perfect  Being ; for,  if  he  wills  it,  he  is 
not  infinitely  good ; and  if  he  wills  it  not,  his  will  is  thwarted 
and  his  sphere  of  action  limited  ? . . . 

“ Let  us,  however,  suppose  for  an  instant  that  these  diffi- 
culties are  surmounted,  and  the  existence  of  the  Absolute  se- 
curely established  on  the  testimony  of  reason.  Still  we  have 
not  succeeded  in  reconciling  this  idea  with  that  of  a Cause : we 
have  done  nothing  toward  explaining  how  the  Absolute  can  give 
rise  to  the  relative,  the  Infinite  to  the  finite.  If  the  condition 
of  causal  activity  is  a higher  state  than  that  of  acquiescence, 
the  Absolute  in  becoming  a cause,  has  lost  it?  original  perfection, 
passed  from  a condition  of  comparative  imperfection  to  one  of 
comparative  perfection ; and  therefore  was  not  originally  perfect. 
If  the  state  of  activity  is  an  inferior  state  to  that  of  quiescence, 
the  Absolute  is  becoming  a cause,  has  lost  its  original  perfection. 
There  remains  only  the  supposition  that  the  two  states  are  equal, 
and  the  act  of  creation  one  of  complete  indifference.  But  this 
supposition  annihilates  the  unity  of  the  absolute,  or  it  annihi- 
lates itself.  If  the  act  of  creation  is  real,  and  yet  indifferent,  we 
must  admit  the  possibility  of  two  conceptions  of  the  Absolute, 
the  one  as  productive,  the  other  as  non-productive.  If  the  act 
is  not  real,  the  supposition  itself  vanishes.  . . . 

“ Again,  how  can  the  relative  be  conceived  as  coming  into 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 


35 


being?  If  it  is  a distinct  reality  from  the  Absolute,  it  must  be 
conceived  as  passing  from  non-existence  into  existence.  But 
to  conceive  an  object  as  non-existent,  is  again  a self-contradic- 
tion; for  that  which  is  conceived  exists,  as  an  object  of  thought, 
in  and  by  that  conception.  We  may  abstain  from  thinking  of  an 
object  at  all ; but,  if  we  think  of  it,  we  cannot  but  think  of  it  as 
existing.  It  is  possible  at  one  time  not  to  think  of  an  object  at 
all,  and  at  another  to  think  of  it  as  already  in  being;  but  to 
think  of  it  in  the  act  of  becoming,  in  the  progress  from  not  being 
into  being,  is  to  think  that  which,  in  the  very  thought,  annihi- 
lates itself.  . . . 

“ To  sum  up  briefly  this  portion  of  my  argument.  The  con- 
ception of  the  Absolute  and  Infinite,  from  whatever  side  we  view 
it,  appears  encompassed  with  contradictions.  There  is  a contra- 
diction in  supposing  such  an  object  to  exist,  whether  alone  or  in 
conjunction  with  others;  and  there  is  a contradiction  in  sup- 
posing it  not  to  exist.  There  is  a contradiction  in  conceiving  it 
as  one;  and  there  is  a contradiction  in  conceiving  it  as  many. 
There  is  a contradiction  in  conceiving  it  as  personal ; and  there 
is  a contradiction  in  conceiving  it  as  impersonal.  It  cannot, 
without  contradiction,  be  represented  as  active;  nor,  without 
equal  contradiction,  be  represented  as  inactive.  It  cannot  be 
conceived  as  the  sum  of  all  existence;  nor  yet  can  it  be  con- 
ceived as  a part  only  of  that  sum.” 

§ 14.  And  now  what  is  the  bearing  of  these  results  on  the 
question  before  us?  Our  examination  of  Ultimate  Religious 
Ideas  has  been  carried  on  with  the  view  of  making  manifest 
some  fundamental  verity  contained  in  them.  Thus  far,  how- 
ever, we  have  arrived  at  negative  conclusions  only.  Criticising 
the  essential  conceptions  involved  in  the  different  orders  of  be- 
liefs, we  find  no  one  of  them  to  be  logically  defensible.  Passing 
over  the  consideration  of  credibility,  and  confining  ourselves  to 
that  of  conceivability,  we  see  that  Atheism,  Pantheism,  and 
Theism,  when  rigorously  analyzed,  severally  prove  to  be  abso- 
lutely unthinkable.  Instead  of  disclosing  a fundamental  verity 
existing  in  each,  our  investigation  seems  rather  to  have  shown 
that  there  is  no  fundamental  verity  contained  in  any.  To  carry 
away  this  conclusion,  however,  would  be  a fatal  error;  as  we 
shall  shortly  sea 


36 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


Leaving  out  the  accompanying  moral  code,  which  is  in  all 
cases  a supplementary  growth,  a religious  creed  is  definable  as 
a theory  of  original  causation.  By  the  lowest  savages  the  gen- 
esis of  things  is  not  inquired  about : anomalous  appearance 
alone  raise  the  question  of  agency.  But  be  it  in  the  primitive 
Ghost-theory  which  assumes  a human  personality  behind  each 
unusual  phenomenon;  be  it  in  Polytheism,  in  which  these  per- 
sonalities are  partially  generalized;  be  it  in  Monotheism,  in 
which  they  are  wholly  generalized;  or  be  it  in  Pantheism,  in 
which  the  generalized  personality  becomes  one  with  the  phenom- 
ena— we  equally  find  a hypothesis  which  is  supposed  to  render 
the  Universe  comprehensible.  Nay,  even  that  which  is  com- 
monly regarded  as  the  negation  of  all  Peligion  — even  positive 
Atheism,  comes  within  the  definition;  for  it,  too,  in  asserting 
the  self-existence  of  Space,  Matter,  Motion,  which  it  regards 
as  adequate  causes  of  every  appearance,  propounds  an  a priori 
theory  from  which  it  holds  the  facts  to  be  deducible.  Now 
every  theory  tacitly  asserts  two  things : first,  that  there  is  some- 
thing to  be  explained;  secondly,  that  such  and  such  is  the  ex- 
planation. Hence,  however  widely  different  speculators  may 
disagree  in  the  solutions  they  give  of  the  same  problem,  yet  by 
implication  they  agree  that  there  is  a problem  to  be  solved.  Here 
then  is  an  element  which  all  creeds  have  in  common.  Religions 
diametrically  opposed  in  their  overt  dogmas  are  yet  perfectly  at 
one  in  the  tacit  conviction  that  the  existence  of  the  world,  with 
all  it  contains  and  all  which  surrounds  it,  is  a mystery  ever 
pressing  for  interpretation.  On  this  point,  if  on  no  other,  there 
is  entire  unanimity. 

Thus  we  come  within  sight  of  that  which  we  seek.  In  the 
last  chapter,  reasons  were  given  for  inferring  that  human  be- 
liefs in  general,  and  especially  the  perennial  ones,  contain,  under 
whatever  disguises  of  error,  some  soul  of  truth;  and  here  we 
have  arrived  at  a truth  underlying  even  the  grossest  supersti- 
tions. We  saw  further  that  this  soul  of  truth  was  most  likely 
to  be  some  constituent  common  to  conflicting  opinions  of  the 
same  order;  and  here  we  have  a constituent  which  may  be 
claimed  alike  by  all  religions.  It  was  pointed  out  that  this  soul 
of  truth  would  almost  certainly  be  more  abstract  than  any  of 
the  beliefs  involving  it ; and  the  truth  we  have  arrived  at  is  one 
exceeding  in  abstractness  the  most  abstract  religious  doctrines. 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 


87 


In  every  respect,  therefore,  our  conclusion  answers  to  the  re- 
quirements. It  has  all  the  characteristics  which  we  inferred 
must  belong  to  that  fundamental  verity  expressed  by  religions  in 
general. 

That  this  is  the  vital  element  in  all  religions  is  further  proved 
by  the  fact  that  it  is  the  element  which  not  only  survives  every 
change,  but  grows  more  distinct  the  more  highly  the  religion  is 
developed.  Aboriginal  creeds,  though  pervaded  by  the  idea  of 
personal  agencies  which  are  usually  unseen,  yet  conceive  these 
agencies  under  perfectly  concrete  and . ordinary  forms  — class 
them  with  the  visible  agencies  of  men  and  animals;  and  so  hide 
a vague  perception  of  mystery  in  disguises  as  unmysterious  as 
possible.  The  Polytheistic  conceptions  in  their  advanced  phases 
represent  the  presiding  personalities  in  greatly  idealized  shapes, 
existing  in  a remote  region,  working  in  subtle  ways,  and  com- 
municating with  men  by  omens  or  through  inspired  persons; 
that  is,  the  ultimate  causes  of  things  are  regarded  as  less  familiar 
and  comprehensible.  The  growth  of  a Monotheistic  faith,  accom- 
panied as  it  is  by  a denial  of  those  beliefs  in  which  the  divine 
nature  is  assimilated  to  the  human  in  all  its  lower  propensities, 
shows  us  a further  step  in  the  same  direction;  and  however  im- 
perfectly this  higher  faith  is  at  first  realized,  we  yet  see  in 
altars  “to  the  unknown  and  unknowable  God/’  and  in  the 
worship  of  a God  that  cannot  by  any  searching  be  found  out, 
that  there  is  a clearer  recognition  of  the  inscrutableness  of  crea- 
tion. Further  developments  of  theology,  ending  in  such  as- 
sertions as  that  “ a God  understood  would  be  no  God  at  all,”  and 
“ to  think  that  God  is,  as  we  can  think  him  to  be,  is  blasphemy,” 
exhibits  this  recognition  still  more  distinctly;  and  it  pervades 
all  the  cultivated  theology  of  the  present  day.  Thus,  while  other 
constituents  of  religious  creeds  one  by  one  drop  away,  this  re- 
mains and  grows  ever  more  manifest;  and  so  is  shown  to  be 
the  essential  constituent. 

Nor  does  the  evidence  end  here.  Not  only  is  the  omnipres- 
ence of  something  which  passes  comprehension,  that  most  ab- 
stract belief  which  is  common  to  all  religions,  which  becomes 
the  more  distinct  in  proportion  as  they  develop,  and  which  re- 
mains after  their  discordant  elements  have  been  mutually  can- 
celled; but  it  is  that  belief  which  the  most  unsparing  criticism 
of  each  leaves  unquestionable  — or  rather  makes  ever  clearer. 


38 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


It  lias  nothing  to  fear  from  the  most  inexorable  logicf  but  on 
the  contrary  is  a belief  which  the  most  inexorable  logic  shows  to 
be  more  profoundly  true  than  any  religion  supposes.  For  every 
religion,  setting  out  though  it  does  with  the  tacit  assertion  of 
a mystery,  forthwith  proceeds  to  give  some  solution  of  this 
mystery ; and  so  asserts  that  it  is  not  a mystery  passing  human 
comprehension.  But  an  examination  of  the  solutions  they  sev- 
erally propound  shows  them  to  be  uniformly  invalid.  The  analy- 
sis of  every  possible  hypothesis  proves,  not  simply  that  no  hy- 
pothesis is  sufficient,  but  that  no  hypothesis  is  even  thinkable. 
And  thus  the  mystery  which  all  religions  recognize  turns  out 
to  be  a far  more  transcendent  mystery  than  any  of  them  suspect 
— not  a relative,  but  an  absolute  mystery. 

Here,  then,  is  an  ultimate  religious  truth  of  the  highest  pos- 
sible certainty  — a truth  in  which  religions  in  general  are  at 
one  with  each  other,  and  with  a philosophy  antagonistic  to  their 
special  dogmas.  And  this  truth,  respecting  which  there  is  a 
latent  agreement  among  all  mankind  from  the  fetish-worshipper 
to  the  most  stoical  critic  of  human  creeds,  must  be  the  one  we 
seek.  If  Religion  and  Science  are  to  be  reconciled,  the  basis  of 
reconciliation  must  be  this  deepest,  widest,  and  most  certain  of 
all  facts  — that  the  Power  which  the  Universe  manifests  to  us 
is  utterly  inscrutable. 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 


39 


CHAPTER  III. 

ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS. 

§ 15.  What  are  Space  and  Time?  Two  hypotheses  are  cur- 
rent respecting  them;  the  one  that  they  are  objective,  and  the 
other  that  they  are  subjective  — the  one  that  they  are  external 
to,  and  independent  of,  ourselves,  the  other  that  they  are  in- 
ternal, and  appertain  to  our  own  consciousness.  Let  us  see  what 
becomes  of  these  hypotheses  under  analysis. 

To  say  that  Space  and  Time  exist  objectively,  is  to  say  that 
they  are  entities.  The  assertion  that  they  are  non-entities  is 
self-destructive : non-entities  are  non-existences ; and  to  allege 
that  non-existences  exist  objectively  is  a contradiction  in  terms. 
Moreover,  to  deny  that  Space  and  Time  are  things,  and  so  by 
implication  to  call  them  nothings,  involves  the  absurdity  that 
there  are  two  kinds  of  nothing.  Neither  can  they  be  regarded  as 
attributes  of  some  entity;  seeing  not  only  that  it  is  impossible 
really  to  conceive  any  entity  of  which  they  are  attributes,  but 
seeing  further  that  we  cannot  think  of  them  as  disappearing, 
even  if  everything  else  disappeared;  whereas  attributes  neces- 
sarily disappear  along  with  the  entities  they  belong  to.  Thus 
as  Space  and  Time  cannot  be  either  non-entities,  nor  the  at- 
tributes of  entities,  we  have  no  choice,  but  consider  them  as  en- 
tities. But  while,  on  the  hypothesis  of  their  objectivity,  Space 
and  Time  must  lie  classed  as  things,  we  find,  on  experiment, 
that  to  represent  them  in  thought  as  things  is  impossible.  To  be 
conceived  at  all,  a thing  must  be  conceived  as  having  attributes. 
We  can  distinguish  something  from  nothing,  only  by  the  power 
which  the  something  has  to  act  on  our  consciousness;  the  sev- 
eral affections  it  produces  on  our  consciousness  (or  else  the  hy- 
pothetical causes  of  them)  we  attribute  to  it,  and  call  its  at- 
tributes; and  the  absence  of  these  attributes  is  the  absence  of 
the  terms  in  which  the  something  is  conceived,  and  involves  the 
absence  of  a conception.  What  now  are  the  attributes  of  Space? 


40 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


The  only  one  which  it  is  possible  for  a moment  to  think  of  as 
belonging  to  it,  is  that  of  extension;  and  to  credit  it  with  this 
implies  a confusion  of  thought.  For  extension  and  Space  are 
convertible  terms:  by  extension,  as  we  ascribe  it  to  surrounding 
objects,  we  mean  occupancy  of  Space;  and  thus  to  say  that  Space 
is  extended,  is  to  say  that  Space  occupies  Space.  How  we  are 
similarly  unable  to  assign  any  attribute  to  Time,  scarcely  needs 
pointing  out.  Nor  are  Time  and  Space  unthinkable  as  entities 
only  from  the  absence  of  attributes ; there  is  another  peculiarity, 
familiar  to  readers  of  metaphysics,  which  equally  excludes  them 
from  the  category.  All  entities  which  we  actually  know  as  such, 
are  limited ; and  even  if  we  suppose  ourselves  either  to  know 
or  to  be  able  to  conceive  some  unlimited  entity,  we  of  necessity 
in  so  classing  it  positively  separate  it  from  the  class  of  limited 
entities.  But  of  Space  and  Time  we  cannot  assert  either  limita- 
tion or  the  absence  of  limitation.  We  find  ourselves  totally  un- 
able to  form  any  mental  image  of  unbounded  Space;  and  yet 
totally  unable  to  imagine  bounds  beyond  which  there  is  no  Space. 
Similarly  at  the  other  extreme  : it  is  impossible  to  think  of  a 
limit  to  the  divisibility  of  Space,  yet  equally  impossible  to  think 
of  its  infinite  divisibility.  And,  without  stating  them,  it  will 
be  seen  that  we  labor  under  like  impotencies  in  respect  to  Time. 
Thus  we  cannot  conceive  Space  and  Time  as  entities,  and  are 
equally  disabled  from  conceiving  them  as  either  the  attributes 
of  entities  or  as  non-entities.  We  are  compelled  to  think  of 
them  as  existing;  and  yet  cannot  bring  them  within  those  con- 
ditions under  which  existences  are  represented  in  thought. 

Shall  we  then  take  refuge  in  the  Kantian  doctrine?  shall  we 
say  that  Space  and  Time  are  forms  of  the  intellect  — “a  priori 
laws  or  conditions  of  the  conscious  mind?”  To  do  this  is  to 
escape  from  great  difficulties  by  rushing  into  greater.  The 
proposition  with  which  Kant’s  philosophy  sets  out,  verbally  in- 
telligible though  it  is,  cannot  by  any  effort  be  rendered  into 
thought  — cannot  be  interpreted  into  an  idea  properly  so  called, 
but  stands  merely  for  a pseud-idea.  In  the  first  place,  to  assert 
that  Space  and  Time,  as  we  are  conscious  of  them,  are  subjective 
conditions,  is  by  implication  to  assert  that  they  are  not  objective 
realities : if  the  Space  and  Time  present  to  our  minds  belong 
to  the  ego,  then  of  necessity  they  do  not  belong  to  the  non-ego. 
Now  it  is  absolutely  impossible  to  think  this.  The  very  fact  on 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 


41 


which  Kant  bases  his  hypothesis  — namely,  that  our  conscious- 
ness of  Space  and  Time  cannot  be  suppressed  — testifies  as 
much ; for  that  consciousness  of  Space  and  Time  which  we  can- 
not rid  ourselves  of,  is  the  consciousness  of  them  as  existing  ob- 
jectively. It  is  useless  to  reply  that  such  an  inability  must  in- 
evitably result  if  they  are  subjective  forms.  The  question  here 
is  — What  does  consciousness  directly  testify  ? And  the  direct 
testimony  of  consciousness  is,  that  Time  and  Space  are  not  with- 
in but  without  the  mind;  and  so  absolutely  independent  of  it 
that  they  cannot  be  conceived  to  become  non-existent  even  were 
the  mind  to  become  non-existent.  Besides  being  positively  un- 
thinkable in  what  it  tacitly  denies,  the  theory  of  Kant  is  equally 
unthinkable  in  what  it  openly  affirms.  It  is  not  simply  that  we 
cannot  combine  the  thought  of  Space  with  the  thought  of  our 
own  personality,  and  contemplate  the  one  as  a property  of  the 
other  — though  our  inability  to  do  this  would  prove  the  incon- 
ceivableness of  the  hypothesis  — but  it  is  that  the  hypothesis 
carries  in  itself  the  proof  of  its  own  inconceivableness.  For  if 
Space  and  Time  are  forms  of  thought,  they  can  never  be  thought 
of ; since  it  is  impossible  for  anything  to  be  at  once  the  form 
of  thought  and  the  matter  of  thought.  That  Space  and  Time 
are  objects  of  consciousness,  Kant  emphatically  asserts  by  saying 
that  it  is  impossible  to  suppress  the  consciousness  of  them.  How 
then,  if  they  are  objects  of  consciousness,  can  they  at  the  same 
time  be  conditions  of  consciousness?  If  Space  and  Time  are 
the  conditions  under  which  we  think,  then  when  we  think  of 
Space  and  Time  themselves,  our  thoughts  must  be  uncondi- 
tioned; and  if  there  can  thus  be  unconditioned  thoughts,  what 
becomes  of  the  theory  ? 

It  results  therefore  that  Space  and  Time  are  wholly  incom- 
prehensible. The  immediate  knowledge  which  we  seem  to  have 
of  them  proves,  when  examined,  to  be  total  ignorance.  While  our 
belief  in  their  objective  reality  is  insurmountable,  we  are  unable 
to  give  any  rational  account  of  it.  And  to  posit  the  alternative 
belief  (possible  to  state  but  impossible  to  realize)  is  merely  to 
multiply  irrationalities. 

§ 16.  Were  it  not  for  the  necessities  of  the  argument,  it 
would  be  inexcusable  to  occupy  the  reader’s  attention  with  the 
threadbare,  and  yet  unended,  controversy  respecting  the  divisi- 


42 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


bility  of  matter.  Matter  is  either  infinitely  divisible  or  it  is 
not:  no  third  possibility  can  be  named.  Which  of  the  alterna- 
tives shall  we  accept  ? If  we  say  that  Matter  is  infinitely  divisi- 
ble, we  commit  ourselves  to  a supposition  not  realizable  in 
thought.  We  can  bisect  and  rebisect  a body,  and  continually  re- 
peating the  act  until  we  reduce  its  parts  to  a size  no  longer  phy- 
sically divisible,  may  then  mentally  continue  the  process  without 
limit.  To  do  this,  however,  is  not  really  to  conceive  the  infinite 
divisibility  of  matter,  but  to  form  a symbolic  conception  incap- 
able of  expansion  into  a real  one,  and  not  admitting  of  other 
verification.  Eeally  to  conceive  the  infinite  divisibility  of  matter 
is  mentally  to  follow  out  the  divisions  to  infinity ; and  to  do  this 
would  require  infinite  time.  On  the  other  hand,  to  assert  that 
matter  is  not  infinitely  divisible  is  to  assert  that  it  is  reducible 
to  parts  which  no  conceivable  power  can  divide;  and  this  verbal 
supposition  can  no  more  be  represented  in  thought  than  the 
other.  For  each  of  such  ultimate  parts,  did  they  exist,  must 
have  an  under  and  an  upper  surface,  a right  and  a left  side, 
like  any  larger  fragment.  Now  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  its 
sides  so  near  that  no  plane  of  section  can  be  conceived  between 
them ; and,  however  great  be  the  assumed  force  of  cohesion,  it  is 
impossible  to  shut  out  the  idea  of  a greater  force  capable  of 
overcoming  it.  So  that  to  human  intelligence  the  one  hypothe- 
sis is  no  more  acceptable  than  the  other;  and  yet  the  conclusion 
that  one  or  other  must  agree  with  the  fact  seems  to  human  in- 
telligence unavoidable. 

Again,  leaving  this  insoluble  question,  let  us  ask  whether  sub- 
stance has,  in  reality,  anything  like  that  extended  solidity  which 
it  presents  to  our  consciousness.  The  portion  of  space  occupied 
by  a piece  of  metal  seems  to  eyes  and  fingers  perfectly  filled : we 
perceive  a homogeneous,  resisting  mass,  without  any  breach  of 
continuity.  Shall  we  then  say  that  Matter  is  as  actually  solid 
as  it  appears?  Shall  we  say  that  whether  it  consists  of  an  in- 
finitely divisible  element  or  of  ultimate  units  incapable  of 
further  division,  its  parts  are  everywhere  in  actual  contact?  To 
assert  as  much  entangles  us  in  insuperable  difficulties.  Were 
Matter  thus  absolutely  solid,  it  would  be,  what  it  is  not  — abso- 
lutely incompressible ; since  compressibility,  implying  the  nearer 
approach  of  constituent  parts,  is  not  thinkable  unless  there  is 
unoccupied  space  between  the  parts.  Nor  is  this  all.  It  is  an 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS  43 

established  mechanical  truth,  that  if  a body,  moving  at  a given 
velocity,  strikes  an  equal  body  at  rest  in  such  wise  that  the  two 
move  on  together,  their  joint  velocity  will  bo  but  half  that  of 
the  striking  body.  Noav  it  is  a law  of  which  the  negation  is  in- 
conceivable, that  in  passing  from  any  one  degree  of  magnitude 
to  any  other,  all  intermediate  degrees  must  be  passed  through. 
Or,  in  the  case  before  us,  a body  moving  at  velocity  4 cannot,  by 
collision,  be  reduced  to  velocity  2,  without  passing  through  all 
velocities  between  4 and  2.  But  were  Matter  truly  solid  — were 
its  units  absolutely  incompressible  and  in  absolute  contact  — 
this  “ law  of  continuity/’  as  it  is  called,  would  be  broken  in 
every  case  of  collision.  For  when,  of  two  such  units,  one  moving 
at  velocity  4 strikes  another  at  rest,  the  striking  unit  must  have 
its  velocity  4 instantaneously  reduced  to  velocity  2 ; must  pass 
from  velocity  4 to  velocity  2 without  any  lapse  of  time,  and  with- 
out passing  through  intermediate  velocities;  must  be  moving 
with  velocities  4 and  2 at  the  same  instant,  which  is  impossible. 

The  supposition  that  Matter  is  absolutely  solid  being  un- 
tenable, there  presents  itself  the  Newtonian  supposition,  that  it 
consists  of  solid  atoms  not  in  contact  but  acting  on  each  other 
by  attractive  and  repulsive  forces,  varying  with  the  distances. 
To  assume  this,  however,  merely  shifts  the  difficulty:  the  prob- 
lem is  simply  transferred  from  the  aggregated  masses  of  matter 
to  these  hypothetical  atoms.  For  granting  that  Matter,  as  we 
perceive  it,  is  made  up  of  such  dense  extended  units  surrounded 
by  atmospheres  of  force,  the  question  arises  — What  is  the  con- 
stitution of  these  units?  We  have  no  alternative  but  to  regard 
each  of  them  as  a small  piece  of  matter.  Looked  at  through  a 
mental  microscope,  each  becomes  a mass  of  substance  such  as 
we  have  just  been  contemplating.  Exactly  the  same  inquiries 
may  be  made  respecting  the  parts  of  which  each  atom  consists; 
while  exactly  the  same  difficulties  stand  in  the  way  of  every 
answer.  And  manifestly,  even  were  the  hypothetical  atom  as- 
sumed to  consist  of  still  minuter  ones,  the  difficulty  would  re- 
appear at  the  next  step;  nor  could  it  be  got  rid  of  even  by  an 
infinite  series  of  such  assumptions. 

Boscovich’s  conception  yet  remains  to  us.  Seeing  that  Mat- 
ter could  not,  as  Leibnitz  suggested,  be  composed  of  unextended 
monads  (since  the  juxtaposition  of  an  infinity  of  points  having 
no  extension  could  not  produce  that  extension  which  matter  pos- 


44 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


sesses),  and  perceiving  objections  to  the  view  entertained  by 
Newton,  Boscovich  proposed  an  intermediate  theory,  uniting, 
as  he  considered,  the  advantages  of  both  and  avoiding  their  diffi- 
culties. His  theory  is,  that  the  constituents  of  Matter  are  centres 
of  force  — points  without  dimensions,  which  attract  and  repel 
each  other  in  such  wise  as  to  be  kept  at  specific  distances  apart. 
And  he  argues,  mathematically,  that  the  forces  possessed  by  such 
centres  might  so  vary  with  the  distances  that  under  given  condi- 
tions the  centres  would  remain  in  stable  equilibrium  with  defi- 
nite interspaces;  and  yet,  under  other  conditions,  would  main- 
tain larger  or  smaller  interspaces.  This  speculation,  however, 
ingeniously  as  it  is  elaborated,  and  eluding  though  it  does  vari- 
ous difficulties,  posits  a proposition  which  cannot  by  any  effort  be 
represented  in  thought : it  escapes  all  the  inconceivabilities  above 
indicated,  by  merging  them  in  the  one  inconceivability  with 
which  it  sets  out.  A centre  of  force  absolutely  without  extension 
is  unthinkable:  answering  to  these  words  we  can  form  nothing 
more  than  a symbolic  conception  of  the  illegitimate  order.  The 
idea  of  resistance  cannot  be  separated  in  thought  from  the  idea 
of  an  extended  body  which  offers  resistance.  To  suppose  that 
central  forces  can  reside  in  points  not  infinitesimally  small  but 
occupying  no  space  whatever  — points  having  position  only,  with 
nothing  to  mark  their  position  — points  in  no  respect  distin- 
guishable from  the  surrounding  points  that  are  not  centres  of 
force : to  suppose  this,  is  utterly  beyond  human  power. 

Here  it  may  possibly  be  said,  that  though  all  hypotheses  re- 
specting the  constitution  of  Matter  commit  us  to  inconceivable 
conclusions  when  logically  developed,  yet  we  have  reason  to  think 
that  one  of  them  corresponds  with  the  fact.  Though  the  concep- 
tion of  Matter  as  consisting  of  dense  indivisible  units  is  sym- 
bolic and  incapable  of  being  completely  thought  out,  it  may  yet 
be  supposed  to  find  indirect  verification  in  the  truths  of  chemis- 
try. These,  it  is  argued,  necessitate  the  belief  that  Matter  con- 
sists of  particles  of  specific  weights,  and  therefore  of  specific 
sizes.  The  general  law  of  definite  proportions  seems  impossible 
on  any  other  condition  than  the  existence  of  ultimate  atoms; 
and  though  the  combining  weights  of  the  respective  elements 
are  termed  by  chemists  their  “ equivalents,”  for  the  purpose  of 
avoiding  a questionable  assumption,  we  are  unable  to  think  of 
the  combination  of  such  definite  weights,  without  supposing  it 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 


45 


to  take  place  between  definite  numbers  of  definite  particles. 
And  thus  it  would  appear  that  the  Newtonian  view  is  at  any 
rate  preferable  to  that  of  Boscovich.  A disciple  of  Boseovich, 
however,  may  reply  that  his  master’s  theory  is  involved  in  that 
of  Newton,  and  cannot  indeed  be  escaped.  “ What,”  he  may 
ask,  “ is  it  that  holds  together  the  parts  of  these  ultimate 
atoms  ?”  “ A cohesive  force,”  his  opponent  must  answer.  “ And 
what,”  he  may  continue,  “ is  it  that  holds  together  the  parts  of 
any  fragments  into  which,  by  sufficient  force,  an  ultimate  atom 
might  be  broken  ?”  Again  the  answer  must  be  — a cohesive 
force.  “ And  what,”  he  may  still  ask,  “ if  the  ultimate  atom 
were,  as  we  can  imagine  it  to  be,  reduced  to  parts  as  small  in  pro- 
portion to  it  as  it  is  in  proportion  to  a tangible  mass  of  matter 
— what  must  give  each  part  the  ability  to  sustain  itself,  and  to 
occupy  space  ?”  Still  there  is  no  answer  but  — a cohesive  force. 
Carry  the  process  in  thought  as  far  as  we  may,  until  the  exten- 
sion of  the  parts  is  less  than  can  be  imagined,  we  still  cannot 
escape  the  admission  of  forces  by  which  the  extension  is  upheld ; 
and  we  can  find  no  limit  until  we  arrive  at  the  conception  of 
centres  of  force  without  any  extension. 

Matter  then,  in  its  ultimate  nature,  is  as  absolutely  incom- 
prehensible as  Space  and  Time.  Frame  what  suppositions  we 
may,  we  find  on  tracing  out  their  implications  that  they  leave 
us  nothing  but  a choice  between  opposite  absurdities. 

§ 17.  A body  impelled  by  the  hand  is  clearly  perceived  to 
move,  and  to  move  in  a definite  direction:  there  seems  at  first 
sight  no  possibility  of  doubting  that  its  motion  is  real,  or  that  it 
is  toward  a given  point.  Yet  it  is  easy  to  show  that  we  not  only 
may  be,  but  usually  are,  quite  wrong  in  both  these  judgments. 
Here,  for  instance,  is  a ship  which  for  simplicity’s  sake,  we  will 
suppose  to  be  anchored  at  the  equator  with  her  head  to  the 
West.  When  the  captain  walks  from  stem  to  stern,  in  what  di- 
rection does  he  move  ? East  is  the  obvious  answer  — an  answer 
which  for  the  moment  may  pass  without  criticism.  But  now  the 
anchor  is  heaved,  and  the  vessel  sails  to  the  West  with  a velocity 
equal  to  that  at  which  the  captain  walks.  In  what  direction 
does  he  now  move  when  he  goes  from  stem  to  stem?  You  can- 
not say  East,  for  the  vessel  is  carrying  him  as  fast  toward  the 
West  as  he  walks  to  the  East;  and  you  cannot  say  West  for  the 


46 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


converse  reason.  In  respect  to  surrounding  space  lie  is  station- 
ary ; though  to  all  on  board  the  ship  he  seems  to  be  moving.  But 
now  are  we  quite  sure  of  this  conclusion  ? — Is  he  really  sta- 
tionary? When  we  take  into  account  the  Earth’s  motion  round 
its  axis,  we  find  that  instead  of  being  stationary  he  is  traveling 
at  the  rate  of  1,000  miles  per  hour  to  the  East;  so  that  neither 
the  perception  of  one  who  looks  at  him,  nor  the  inference  of  one 
who  allows  for  the  ship’s  motion,  is  anything  like  the  truth. 
Nor  indeed,  on  further  consideration,  shall  we  find  this  revised 
conclusion  to  be  much  better.  For  we  have  forgotten  to  allow 
for  the  Earth’s  motion  in  its  orbit.  This  being  some  68,000 
miles  per  hour,  it  follows  that,  assuming  the  time  to  be  mid- 
day, he  is  moving,  not  at  the  rate  of  1,000  miles  per  hour  to 
the  East,  but  at  the  rate  of  67,000  miles  per  hour  to  the  West, 
Nay,  not  even  now  have  we  discovered  the  true  rate  and  the  true 
direction  of  his  movement.  With  the  Earth’s  progress  in  its 
orbit,  we  have  to  join  that  of  the  whole  Solar  System  toward  the 
constellation  Hercules;  and  when  we  do  this,  we  perceive  that 
he  is  moving  neither  East  nor  West,  hut  in  a line  inclined  to  the 
plane  of  the  Ecliptic,  and  at  a velocity  greater  or  less  (according 
to  the  time  of  the  year)  than  that  above  named.  To  which  let 
us  add,  that  were  the  dynamic  arrangements  of  our  sidereal  sys- 
tem fully  known  to  us,  we  should  probably  discover  the  direction 
and  rate  of  his  actual  movement  to  differ  considerably  even  from 
these.  How  illusive  are  our  ideas  of  Motion,  is  thus  made  suffi- 
ciently manifest.  That  which  seems  moving  proves  to  be  sta- 
tionary; that  which  seems  stationary  proves  to  be  moving;  while 
that  which  we  conclude  to  be  going  rapidly  in  one  direction 
turns  out  to  be  going  much  more  rapidly  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion. And  so  we  are  taught  that  what  we  are  conscious  of  is  not 
the  real  motion  of  any  object,  either  in  its  rate  or  direction; 
but  merely  its  motion  as  measured  from  an  assigned  position  — 
either  the  position  we  ourselves  occupy  or  some  other.  Yet  in 
this  very  process  of  concluding  that  the  motions  we  perceive  are 
not  the  real  motions,  we  tacitly  assume  that  there  are  real  mo- 
tions. In  revising  our  successive  judgments  concerning  a body’s 
course  or  velocity,  we  take  for  granted  that  there  is  an  actual 
course  and  an  actual  velocity  — we  take  for  granted  that  there 
are  fixed  points  in  space  with  respect  to  which  all  motions  are 
absolute ; and  we  find  it  impossible  to  rid  ourselves  of  this  idea. 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 


47 


Nevertheless,  absolute  motion  cannot  even  be  imagined,  muchl 
less  known.  Motion  as  taking  place  apart  from  those  limitations 
of  space  which  we  habitually  associate  with  it,  is  totally  unthink- 
able. For  motion  is  change  of  place;  but  in  unlimited  space 
change  of  place  is  inconceivable,  because  place  itself  is  incon- 
ceivable. Place  can  be  conceived  only  by  reference  to  other 
places;  and  in  the  absence  of  objects  dispersed  through  space,  a 
place  could  be  conceived  only  in  relation  to  the  limits  of  space ; 
whence  it  follows  that  in  unlimited  space  place  cannot  be  con- 
ceived — all  places  must  be  equidistant  from  boundaries  that 
do  not  exist.  Thus  while  we  are  obliged  to  think  that  there  is  an 
absolute  motion,  we  find  absolute  motion  incomprehensible. 

Another  insuperable  difficulty  presents  itself  when  we  con- 
template the  transfer  of  Motion.  Habit  blinds  us  to  the  marvel- 
ousness of  this  phenomenon.  Familiar  with  the  fact  from  child- 
hood, we  see  nothing  remarkable  in  the  ability  of  a moving  thing 
to  generate  movement  in  a thing  that  is  stationary.  It  is,  how- 
ever, impossible  to  understand  it.  In  what  respect  does  a body 
after  impact  differ  from  itself  before  impact?  What  is  this 
added  to  it  which  does  not  sensibly  affect  any  of  its  properties 
and  yet  enables  it  to  traverse  space?  Here  is  an  object  at  rest 
and  here  is  the  same  object  moving.  In  the  one  state  it  has  no 
tendency  to  change  its  place ; but  in  the.  other  it  is  obliged  at 
each  instant  to  assume  a new  position.  What  is  it  which  will 
forever  go  on  producing  this  effect  without  being  exhausted? 
and  how  does  it  dwell  in  the  object?  The  motion  you  say  has 
been  communicated.  But  how  ? — What  has  been  communi- 
cated? The  striking  body  has  not  transferred  a thing  to  the 
body  struck;  and  it  is  equally  out  of  the  question  to  say  that  it 
has  transferred  an  attribute.  What  then  has  it  transferred  ? 

Once  more  there  is  the  old  puzzle  concerning  the  connection 
between  Motion  and  Best.  We  daily  witness  the  gradual  re- 
tardation and  final  stoppage  of  things  projected  from  the  hand 
or  otherwise  impelled  ; and  we  equally  often  witness  the  change 
from  Best  to  Motion  produced  by  the  application  of  force.  But 
truly  to  represent  these  transitions  in  thought,  we  find  impos- 
sible. For  a breach  of  the  law  of  continuity  seems  necessarily  in- 
volved ; and  yet  no  breach  of  it  is  conceivable.  A body  traveling 
at  a given  velocity  cannot  be  brought  to  a state  of  rest,  or  no 
velocity,  without  passing  through  all  intermediate  velocities.  At 


4S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


first  sight  nothing  seems  easier  than  to  imagine  it  doing  this.  It 
is  quite  possible  to  think  of  its  motion  as  diminishing  insen- 
sibly  until  it  becomes  infinitesimal ; and  many  will  think  equally 
possible  to  pass  in  thought  from  infinitesimal  motion  to  no  mo- 
tion. But  this  is  an  error.  Mentally  follow  out  the  decreasing 
velocity  as  long  as  you  please,  and  there  still  remains  some  ve- 
locity. Halve  and  again  halve  the  rate  of  movement  forever,  yet 
movement  still  exists;  and  the  smallest  movement  is  separated 
by  an  impassable  gap  from  no  movement.  As  something,  how- 
ever minute,  is  infinitely  great  in  comparison  with  nothing ; so  is 
even  the  least  conceivable  motion  infinite  as  compared  with  rest. 
The  converse  perplexities  attendant  on  the  transition  from  Best 
to  Motion  need  not  be  specified.  These,  equally  with  the  fore- 
going, show  us  that  though  we  are  obliged  to  think  of  such 
changes  as  actually  occurring,  their  occurrence  cannot  be  real- 
ized. 

Thus  neither  when  considered  in  connection  with  Space,  nor 
when  considered  in  connection  with  Matter,  nor  when  consid- 
ered in  connection  with  Rest,  do  we  find  that  Motion  is  truly 
cognizable.  All  efforts  to  understand  its  essential  nature  do  but 
bring  us  to  alternative  impossibilities  of  thought. 

§ 18.  On  lifting  a chair,  the  force  exerted  we  regard  as 
equal  to  that  antagonistic  force  called  the  weight  of  the  chair, 
and  we  cannot  think  of  these  as  equal  without  thinking  of  them 
as  like  in  kind ; since  equality  is  conceivable  only  between  things 
that  are  connatural.  The  axiom  that  action  and  reaction  are 
equal  and  in  opposite  directions,  commonly  exemplified  by  this 
very  instance  of  muscular  effort  versus  weight,  cannot  be  men- 
tally realized  on  any  other  condition.  Yet,  contrariwise,  it  is  in- 
credible that  the  force  as  existing  in  the  chair  really  resembles 
the  force  as  present  to  our  minds.  It  scarcely  needs  to  point 
out  that  the  weight  of  the  chair  produces  in  us  various  feelings 
according  as  we  support  it  by  a single  finger,  or  the  whole  hand, 
or  the  leg ; and  hence  to  argue  that  as  it  cannot  be  like  all  these 
sensations  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  it  like  any.  It  suffices 
to  remark  that  since  the  force  as  known  to  us  is  an  affection  of 
consciousness  we  cannot  conceive  the  force  existing  in  the  chair 
under  the  same  form  without  endowing  the  chair  with  conscious- 
ness. So  that  it  is  absurd  to  think  of  Force  as  in  itself  like  our 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 


49 


sensation  of  it,  and  yet  necessary  so  to  think  of  it  if  we  realize  it 
in  consciousness  at  all. 

How,  again,  can  we  understand  the  connection  between  Force 
and  Matter  ? Matter  is  known  to  us  only  through  its  manifesta- 
tions of  Force.  Our  ultimate  test  of  Matter  is  the  ability  to  re- 
sist. Abstract  its  resistance  and  there  remains  nothing  but 
empty  extension.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  resistance  is  equally  un- 
thinkable apart  from  Matter  — apart  from  something  extended. 
Not  only,  as  pointed  out  some  pages  back,  are  centres  of  force 
devoid  of  extension  unimaginable;  but,  as  an  inevitable  corol- 
lary, we  cannot  imagine  either  extended  or  unextended  centres 
of  force  to  attract  and  repel  other  such  centres  at  a distance, 
without  the  intermediation  of  some  kind  of  matter.  We  have 
here  to  remark  what  could  not  without  anticipation  be  remarked 
when  treating  of  Matter,  that  the  hypothesis  of  Newton,  equally 
with  that  of  Boscovich,  is  open  to  the  charge  that  it  supposes  one 
thing  to  act  upon  another  through  a space  which  is  absolutely 
empty  — a supposition  which  cannot  be  represented  in  thought. 
This  charge  is  indeed  met  by  the  introduction  of  a hypothetical 
fluid  existing  between  the  atoms  or  centres.  But  the  problem  is 
not  thus  solved;  it  is  simply  shifted,  and  reappears  when  the 
constitution  of  this  fluid  is  inquired  into.  How  impossible  it  is 
to  elude  the  difficulty  presented  by  the  transfer  of  Force  through 
space,  is  best  seen  in  the  case  of  astronomical  forces.  The  Sun 
acts  upon  us  in  such  way  as  to  produce  the  sensations  of  light 
and  heat ; and  we  have  ascertained  that  between  the  cause  as  ex- 
isting in  the  Sun  and  the  effect  as  experienced  on  the  Earth  a 
lapse  of  about  eight  minutes  occurs;  whence  unavoidably  result 
in  us  the  conceptions  of  both  a force  and  a motion.  So  that  for 
the  assumption  of  a luminiferous  ether  there  is  the  defence  not 
only  that  the  exercise  of  force  through  95,000,000  of  miles  of 
absolute  vacuum  is  inconceivable,  but  also  that  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive  motion  in  the  absence  of  something  moved.  Sim- 
ilarly in  the  case  of  gravitation,  Newton  described  himself  as 
unable  to  think  that  the  attraction  of  one  body  for  another  at  a 
distance  could  be  exerted  in  the  absence  of  an  intervening 
medium.  But  now  let  us  ask  how  much  the  forwarder  we  are 
if  an  intervening  medium  be  assumed.  This  ether,  whose  undu- 
lations according  to  the  received  hypothesis  constitute  heat  and 
light,  and  which  is  the  vehicle  of  gravitation  — how  is  it  con- 


50 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


stituted  ? We  must  regard  it  in  the  way  that  physicists  do  re- 
gard it,  as  composed  of  atoms  which  attract  and  repel  each  other 
■ — infinitesimal  it  may  be  in  comparison  with  those  of  ordinary 
matter,  but  still  atoms.  And  remembering  that  this  ether  is  im- 
ponderable, we  are  obliged  to  conclude  that  the  ratio  between  the 
interspaces  of  these  atoms  and  the  atoms  themselves  is  incom- 
mensurably  greater  than  the  like  ratio  in  ponderable  matter,  else 
the  densities  could  not  be  incommensurable.  Instead  then  of 
a direct  action  by  the  Sun  upon  the  Earth,  without  anything 
intervening,  we  have  to  conceive  the  Sun’s  action  propagated 
through  a medium  whose  molecules  are  probably  as  small  rela- 
tively to  their  interspaces  as  are  the  Sun  and  Earth  compared 
with  the  space  between  them.  We  have  to  conceive  these  in- 
finitesimal molecules  acting  on  each  other  through  absolutely 
vacant  spaces,  which  are  immense  in  comparison  with  their  own 
dimensions.  How  is  this  conception  easier  than  the  other  ? We 
still  have  mentally  to  represent  a body  as  acting  where  it  is  not, 
and  in  the  absence  of  anything  by  which  its  action  may  be  trans- 
ferred ; and  what  matters  it  whether  this  takes  place  on  a large 
or  a small  scale?  We  see,  therefore,  that  the  exercise  of  Force 
is  altogether  unintelligible.  We  cannot  imagine  it  except 
through  the  instrumentality  of  something  having  extension; 
and  yet  when  we  have  assumed  this  something  we  find  the  per- 
plexity is  not  got  rid  of  but  only  postponed.  We  are  obliged 
to  conclude  that  matter,  whether  ponderable  or  imponderable, 
and  whether  aggregated  or  in  its  hypothetical  units,  acts  upon 
matter  through  absolutely  vacant  space ; and  yet  this  conclusion 
is  positively  unthinkable. 

Yet  another  difficulty  of  conception,  converse  in  nature,  but 
equally  insurmountable,  must  be  added.  If,  on  the  one  hand, 
we  cannot  in  thought  see  matter  acting  upon  matter  through  a 
vast  interval  of  space  which  is  absolutely  void;  on  the  other 
hand,  that  the  gravitation  of  one  particle  of  matter  toward  an- 
other, and  toward  all  others,  should  be  absolutely  the  same 
whether  the  intervening  space  is  filled  with  matter  or  not,  is 
incomprehensible.  I lift  from  the  ground,  and  continue  to  hold 
a pound  weight.  Now,  into  the  vacancy  between  it  and  the 
ground  is  introduced  a mass  of  matter  of  any  kind  whatever,  in 
any  state  whatever  — hot  or  cold,  liquid  or  solid,  transparent  or 
opaque,  light  or  dense;  and  the  gravitation  of  the  weight  is  en- 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 


51 


tirely  unaffected.  The  whole  Earth,  as  well  as  each  individual 
of  the  infinity  of  particles  composing  the  Earth,  acts  on  the 
pound  in  absolutely  the  same  way,  whatever  intervenes,  or  if 
nothing  intervenes.  Through  eight  thousand  miles  of  the 
Earth’s  substance  each  molecule  at  the  antipodes  affects  each 
molecule  of  the  weight  I hold,  in  utter  indifference  to  the  fulness 
or  emptiness  of  the  space  between  them.  So  that  each  portion  of 
matter  in  its  dealings  with  remote  portions  treats  all  intervening 
portions  as  though  they  did  not  exist;  and  yet  at  the  same  time 
it  recognizes  their  existence  with  scrupulous  exactness  in  its  di- 
rect dealings  with  them.  We  have  to  regard  gravitation  as  a 
force  to  which  everything  in  the  Universe  is  at  once  perfectly 
opaque  in  respect  of  itself  and  perfectly  transparent  in  respect 
of  other  things. 

While,  then,  it  is  impossible  to  form  any  idea  of  Force  in  it- 
self, it  is  equally  impossible  to  comprehend  its  mode  of  exercise. 

§ 19.  Turning  now  from  the  outer  to  the  inner  world,  let 
us  contemplate  not  the  agencies  to  which  we  ascribe  our  sub- 
jective modifications,  but  the  subjective  modifications  them- 
selves. These  constitute  a series.  Difficult  as  we  find  it  dis- 
tinctly to  separate  and  individualize  them,  it  is  nevertheless 
beyond  question  that  our  states  of  consciousness  occur  in  suc- 
cession. 

Is  this  chain  of  states  of  consciousness  infinite  or  finite?  We 
cannot  say  infinite;  not  only  because  we  have  indirectly  reached 
the  conclusion  that  there  was  a period  when  it  commenced,  but 
also  because  all  infinity  is  inconceivable  — an  infinite  series  in- 
cluded. We  cannot  say  finite;  for  we  have  no  knowledge  of 
either  of  its  ends.  Go  back  in  memory  as  far  as  we  may,  we 
are  wholly  unable  to  identify  our  first  states  of  consciousness. 
The  perspective  of  our  thoughts  vanishes  in  a dim  obscurity 
where  we  can  make  out  nothing.  Similarly  at  the  other  extreme. 
We  have  no  immediate  knowledge  of  a termination  to  the  series 
at  a future  time,  and  we  cannot  really  lay  hold  of  that  temporary 
termination  of  the  series  reached  at  the  present  moment.  For 
the  state  of  consciousness  recognized  by  us  as  our  last  is  not  truly 
our  last.  That  any  mental  affection  may  be  contemplated  as 
one  of  the  series  it  must  be  remembered  — represented  in 
thought,  not  presented.  The  truly  last  state  of  consciousness 


52 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


is  that  which  is  passing  in  the  very  act  of  contemplating  a state 
just  past  — that  in  which  we  are  thinking  of  the  one  before  as 
the  last.  So  that  the  proximate  end  of  the  chain  eludes  us,  as 
well  as  the  remote  end. 

“ But/’  it  may  be  said,  “ though  we  cannot  directly  know 
consciousness  to  be  finite  in  duration,  because  neither  of  its 
limits  can  be  actually  reached,  yet  we  can  very  well  conceive 
it  to  be  so.”  No;  not  even  this  is  true.  In  the  first  place,  we 
cannot  conceive  the  terminations  of  that  consciousness  which 
alone  we  really  know  — our  own  — any  more  than  we  can  per- 
ceive its  terminations.  For  in  truth  the  two  acts  are  here  one. 
In  either  case  such  terminations  must  be,  as  above  said,  not 
presented  in  thought,  but  represented ; and  they  must  be  repre- 
sented as  in  the  act  of  occurring.  Now,  to  represent  the  termina- 
tion of  consciousness  as  occurring  in  ourselves  is  to  think  of 
ourselves  as  contemplating  the  cessation  of  the  last  state  of  con- 
sciousness; and  this  implies  a supposed  continuance  of  con- 
sciousness after  its  last  state,  which  is  absurd.  In  the  second 
place,  if  we  regard  the  matter  objectively  — if  we  study  the 
phenomena  as  occurring  in  others,  or  in  the  abstract,  we  are 
equally  foiled.  Consciousness  implies  perpetual  change  and 
the  perpetual  establishment  of  relations  between  its  successive 
phases.  To  be  known  at  all,  any  mental  affection  must  be  known 
as  such  or  such  — as  like  these  foregoing  ones  or  unlike  those. 
If  it  is  not  thought  of  in  connection  with  others  — not  dis- 
tinguished or  identified  by  comparison  with  others,  it  is  not  rec- 
ognized — is  not  a state  of  consciousness  at  all.  A last  state  of 
consciousness,  then,  like  any  other,  can  exist  only  through  a 
perception  of  its  relations  to  previous  states.  But  such  per- 
ception of  its  relations  must  constitute  a state  later  than  the 
last,  which  is  a contradiction.  Or,  to  put  the  difficulty  in  another 
form : if  ceaseless  change  of  state  is  the  condition  on  which  alone 
consciousness  exists,  then  when  the  supposed  last  state  has  been 
reached  by  the  completion  of  the  preceding  change,  change  has 
ceased ; therefore  consciousness  has  ceased ; therefore  the  sup- 
posed last  state  is  not  a state  of  consciousness  at  all ; therefore 
there  can  be  no  last  state  of  consciousness.  In  short,  the  per- 
plexity is  like  that  presented  by  the  relations  of  Motion  and 
Best.  As  we  found  it  was  impossible  really  to  conceive  Best 
becoming  Motion  or  Motion  becoming  Best;  so  here  we  find  it 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 


53 


is  impossible  really  to  conceive  either  the  beginning  or  the  end- 
ing of  those  changes  which  constitute  consciousness. 

Hence,  while  we  are  unable  either  to  believe  or  to  conceive 
that  the  duration  of  consciousness  is  infinite,  we  are  equally 
unable  either  to  know  it  as  finite  or  to  conceive  it  as  finite. 

§ 20.  Nor  do  we  meet  with  any  greater  success  when,  in- 
stead of  the  extent  of  consciousness,  we  consider  its  substance. 
The  question,  What  is  this  that  thinks?  admits  of  no  better 
solution  than  the  question  to  which  we  have  just  found  none 
but  inconceivable  answers. 

The  existence  of  each  individual  as  known  to  himself  has 
been  always  held  by  mankind  at  large  the  most  incontrovertible 
of  truths.  To  say  “ I am  as  sure  of  it  as  I am  sure  that  I ex- 
ist” is,  in  common  speech,  the  most  emphatic  expression  of 
certainty.  And  this  fact  of  personal  existence,  testified  to  by  the 
universal  consciousness  of  men,  has  been  made  the  basis  of 
sundry  philosophies ; whence  may  be  drawn  the  inference  that 
it  is  held  by  thinkers,  as  well  as  by  the  vulgar,  to  be  beyond  all 
facts  unquestionable. 

Belief  in  the  reality  of  self  is  indeed  a belief  which  no  hy- 
pothesis enables  us  to  escape.  What  shall  we  say  of  these  suc- 
cessive impressions  and  ideas  which  constitute  consciousness? 
Shall  we  say  that  they  are  the  affections  of  something  called 
mind,  which,  as  being  the  subject  of  them,  is  the  real  ego?  If 
we  say  this  we  manifestly  imply  that  the  ego  is  an  entity.  Shall 
we  assert  that  these  impressions  and  ideas  are  not  the  mere 
superficial  changes  wrought  on  some  thinking  substance,  but  are 
themselves  the  very  body  of  this  substance  — are  severally  the 
modified  forms  which  it  from  moment  to  moment  assumes? 
This  hypothesis,  equally  with  the  foregoing,  implies  that  the 
individual  exists  as  a permanent  and  distinct  being ; since  modi- 
fications necessarily  involve  something  modified.  Shall  we  then 
betake  ourselves  to  the  sceptic’s  position,  and  argue  that  we  know 
nothing  more  than  our  impressions  and  ideas  themselves  — that 
these  are  to  us  the  only  existences ; and  that  the  personality  said 
to  underlie  them  is  a mere  fiction?  We  do  not  even  thus  escape ; 
since  this  proposition,  verbally  intelligible  but  really  unthinkable, 
itself  makes  the  assumption  which  it  professes  to  repudiate.  For 
how  can  consciousness  be  wholly  resolved  into  impressions  and 


54 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ideas  when  an  impression  of  necessity  implies  something  inn 
pressed?  Or,  again,  how  can  the  sceptic  who  has  decomposed 
his  consciousness  into  impressions  and  ideas  explain  the  fact 
that  he  considers  them  as  Ins  impressions  and  ideas?  Or,  once 
more,  if,  as  he  must,  he  admits  that  he  has  an  impression  of  his 
personal  existence,  what  warrant  can  he  show  for  rejecting  this 
impression  as  unreal  while  he  accepts  all  his  other  impressions 
as  real  ? Unless  he  can  give  satisfactory  answers  to  these  queries, 
which  he  cannot,  lie  must  abandon  his  conclusions,  and  must 
admit  the  reality  of  the  individual  mind. 

But  now,  unavoidable  as  is  this  belief  — established  though 
it  is  not  only  by  the  assent  of  mankind  at  large,  indorsed  by 
divers  philosophers,  but  by  the  suicide  of  the  sceptical  argument 
— it  is  yet  a belief  admitting  of  no  justification  by  reason;  nay, 
indeed,  it  is  a belief  which  reason  when  pressed  for  a distinct 
answer  rejects.  One  of  the  most  recent  writers  who  has  touched 
upon  this  question,  Mr.  Mansel,  does  indeed  contend  that  in 
the  consciousness  of  self  we  have  a piece  of  real  knowledge. 
The  validity  of  immediate  intuition  he  holds  in  this  case  unques- 
tionable, remarking  that  “ Let  system-makers  say  what  they  will, 
the  unsophisticated  sense  of  mankind  refuses  to  acknowledge 
that  mind  is  but  a bundle  of  states  of  consciousness,  as  matter 
is  (possibly)  a bundle  of  sensible  qualities/’  On  which  position 
the  obvious  comment  is  that  it  does  not  seem  altogether  a con- 
sistent one  for  a Ivantist,  who  pays  but  small  respect  to  “ the 
unsophisticated  sense  of  mankind”  when  it  testifies  to  the 
objectivity  of  space.  Passing  over  this,  however,  it  may  readily 
be  shown  that  a cognition  of  self,  properly  so  called,  is  absolutely 
negatived  by  the  laws  of  thought.  The  fundamental  condition 
to  all  consciousness  emphatically  insisted  upon  Mr.  Mansel,  in 
common  with  Sir  William  Hamilton  and  others,  is  the  anti- 
thesis of  subject  and  object.  And  on  this  “ primitive  dualism 
of  consciousness,”  “ from  which  the  explanations  of  philosophy 
must  take  their  start,”  Mr.  Mansel  founds  his  refutation  of 
the  German  absolutists.  But  now,  what  is  the  corollary  from 
this  doctrine,  as  bearing  on  the  consciousness  of  self?  The 
mental  act  in  which  self  is  known  implies,  like  every  other 
mental  act,  a perceiving  subject  and  a perceived  object.  If,  then, 
the  object  perceived  is  self,  what  is  the  subject  that  perceives? 
or,  if  it  is  the  true  self  which  thinks,  what  other  self  can  it  be 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 


55 


that  is  thought  of?  Clearly,  a true  cognition  of  self  implies  a 
state  in  which  the  knowing  and  the  known  are  one  — in  which 
subject  and  object  are  identified;  and  this  Mr.  Mansel  rightly 
holds  to  the  annihilation  of  both. 

So  that  the  personality  of  which  each  is  conscious,  and  of 
which  the  existence  is  to  each  a fact  beyond  all  others  the  most 
certain,  is  yet  a thing  which  cannot  truly  be  known  at  all. 
Knowledge  of  it  is  forbidden  by  the  very  nature  of  thought. 

§ 21.  Ultimate  Scientific  Ideas,  then,  are  all  representative 
of  realities  that  cannot  be  comprehended.  After  no  matter  how 
great  a progress  in  the  colligation  of  facts  and  the  establishment 
of  generalizations  ever  wider  and  wider:  after  the  merging  of 
limited  and  derivative  truths  in  truths  that  are  larger  and 
deeper  has  been  carried  no  matter  how  far,  the  fundamental 
truth  remains  as  much  beyond  reach  as  ever.  The  explanation 
of  that  which  is  explicable  does  but  bring  out  into  greater  clear- 
ness the  inexplicableness  of  that  which  remains  behind.  Alike 
in  the  external  and  the  internal  worlds,  the  man  of  science  sees 
himself  in  the  midst  of  perpetual  changes,  of  which  he  can 
discover  neither  the  beginning  nor  the  end.  If,  tracing  back 
the  evolution  of  things,  he  allows  himself  to  entertain  the  hypo- 
thesis  that  the  Universe  once  existed  in  a diffused  form,  he 
finds  it  utterly  impossible  to  conceive  how  this  came  to  be  so; 
and  equally,  if  he  speculates  on  the  future  he  can  assign  no 
limit  to  the  grand  succession  of  phenomena  ever  unfolding  them- 
selves before  him.  In  like  manner,  if  he  looks  inward,  he 
perceives  that  both  ends  of  the  thread  of  consciousness  are 
beyond  his  grasp;  nay,  even  be}rond  his  power  to  think  of  as 
having  existed  or  as  existing  in  time  to  come.-  When,  again, 
he  turns  from  the  succession  of  phenomena,  external  or  internal, 
to  their  intrinsic  nature,  he  is  just  as  much  at  fault.  Supposing 
him  in  every  case  able  to  resolve  the  appearances,  properties, 
and  movements  of  things  into  manifestations  of  Force  in  Space 
and  Time,  he  still  finds  that  Force,  Space,  and  Time  pass  all 
understanding.  Similarly,  though  the  analysis  of  mental  actions 
may  finally  bring  him  down  to  sensations,  as  the  original  ma- 
terials out  of  which  all  thought  is  woven,  yet  he  is  little 
forwarder ; for  he  can  give  no  account  either  of  sensations  them- 
selves or  of  that  something  which  is  conscious  of  sensations. 


66 


FIRST  PRINCIFLES 


Objective  and  subjective  things  lie  thus  ascertains  to  be  alike 
inscrutable  in  their  substance  and  genesis.  In  all  directions 
his  investigations  eventually  bring  him  face  to  face  with  an 
insoluble  enigma;  and  he  ever  more  clearly  perceives  it  to  be 
an  insoluble  enigma.  He  learns  at  once  the  greatness  and  the 
littleness  of  the  human  intellect  — its  power  in  dealing  with 
all  that  comes  within  the  range  of  experience,  its  impotence 
in  dealing  with  all  that  transcends  experience.  He  realizes 
with  a special  vividness  the  utter  incomprehensibleness  of  the 
simplest  fact,  considered  in  itself.  He,  more  than  any  other, 
truly  knows  that  in  its  ultimate  essence  nothing  can  be  known. 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


67 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE. 

§ 22.  The  same  conclusion  is  thus  arrived  at,  from  which- 
ever point  we  set  out.  If,  respecting  the  origin  and  nature  of 
things,  we  make  some  assumption,  we  find  that  through  an 
inexorable  logic  it  inevitably  commits  us  to  alternative  impos- 
sibilities of  thought;  and  this  holds  true  of  every  assumption 
that  can  be  imagined.  If,  contrariwise,  we  make  no  assumption, 
but  set  out  from  the  sensible  properties  of  surrounding  objects, 
and,  ascertaining  their  special  laws  of  dependence,  go  on  to 
merge  these  in  laws  more  and  more  general,  until  we  bring  them 
all  under  some  most  general  laws;  we  still  find  ourselves  as 
far  as  ever  from  knowing  what  it  is  which  manifests  these 
properties  to  us : clearly  as  we  seem  to  know  it,  our  apparent 
knowledge  proves  on  examination  to  be  utterly  irreconcilable 
with  itself.  Ultimate  religious  ideas  and  ultimate  scientific 
ideas  alike  turn  out  to  be  merely  symbols  of  the  actual,  not 
cognitions  of  it. 

The  conviction  so  reached,  that  human  intelligence  is  incap- 
able of  absolute  knowledge,  is  one  that  has  been  slowly  gaining 
ground  as  civilization  has  advanced.  Each  new  ontological 
theory,  from  time  to  time  propounded  in  lieu  of  previous  ones 
shown  to  be  untenable,  has  been  followed  by  a new  criticism 
leading  to  a new  scepticism.  All  possible  conceptions  have 
been  one  by  one  tried  and  found  wanting;  and  so  the  entire 
field  of  speculation  has  been  gradually  exhausted  without  posi- 
tive result;  the  only  result  arrived  at  being  the  negative  one 
above  stated  — that  the  reality  existing  behind  all  appearances 
is,  and  must  ever  be,  unknown.  To  this  conclusion  almost 
every  thinker  of  note  has  subscribed.  “ With  the  exception,” 
says  Sir  William  Hamilton,  “ of  a few  late  Absolutist  theorizers 
in  Germany,  this  is  perhaps  the  truth  of  all  others  most  har- 
moniously re-echoed  by  every  philosopher  of  every  school.”  And 


5S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


among'  these  he  names  Protagoras,  Aristotle,  St.  Augustine, 
Boethius,  Averroes,  Albertus  Magnus,  Gerson,  Leo  Hebrasus, 
Melanchthon,  Scaliger,  Francis  Piccolomini,  Giordano  Bruno, 
Campanella,  Bacon,  Spinoza,  Newton,  Kant. 

It  yet  remains  to  point  out  how  this  belief  may  be  established 
rationally,  as  well  as  empirically.  Not  only  is  it  that,  as  in  the 
earlier  thinkers  above  named,  a vague  perception  of  the  in- 
scrutableness of  things  in  themselves  results  from  discovering 
the  illusiveness  of  sense-impressions,  and  not  only  is  it  that, 
as  shown  in  the  foregoing  chapters,  definite  experiments  evolve 
alternative  impossibilities  of  thought  out  of  every  ultimate 
conception  we  can  frame,  but  it  is  that  the  relativity  of  our 
knowledge  is  demonstrable  analytically.  The  induction  drawn 
from  general  and  special  experiences  may  be  confirmed  by  a 
deduction  from  the  nature  of  our  intelligence.  Two  ways  of 
reaching  such  a deduction  exist.  Proof  that  our  cognitions  are 
not,  and  never  can  be,  absolute  is  obtainable  by  analyzing  either 
the  product  of  thought  or  the  process  of  thought.  Let  us  analyze 
each. 


§ 23.  If,  when  walking  through  the  fields  some  day  in 
September  you  hear  a rustle  a few  yards  in  advance,  and,  on 
observing  the  ditch-side  where  it  occurs,  see  the  herbage  agi- 
tated, you  will  probably  turn  toward  the  spot  to  learn  by 
what  this  sound  and  motion  are  produced.  As  you  approach 
there  flutters  into  the  ditch  a partridge;  on  seeing  which 
your  curiosity  is  satisfied  — you  have  what  you  call  an  expla- 
nation of  the  appearances.  The  explanation,  mark,  amounts 
to  this;  that  whereas  throughout  life  you  have  had  countless 
experiences  of  disturbance  among  small  stationary  bodies,  ac- 
companying the  movement  of  other  bodies  among  them,  and 
have  generalized  the  relation  between  such  disturbances  and 
such  movements,  you  consider  this  particular  disturbance  ex- 
plained on  finding  it  to  present  an  instance  of  the  like  relation. 
Suppose  you  catch  the  partridge,  and,  wishing  to  ascertain  why 
it  did  not  escape,  examine  it  and  find  at  one  spot  a slight  trace 
of  blood  upon  its  feathers.  You  now  understand , as  you  say, 
what  has  disabled  the  partridge.  It  has  been  wounded  by  a 
sportsman  — adds  another  case  to  the  many  cases  already  seen 
by  you,  of  birds  being  killed  or  injured  by  the  shot  discharged 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE  59 

at  them'  from  fowling-pieces.  And  in  assimilating  this  case 
to  other  such  cases  consists  your  understanding  of  it.  But  now, 
on  consideration,  a difficulty  suggests  itself.  Only  a single 
shot  has  struck  the  partridge,  and  that  not  in  a vital  place. 
The  wings  are  uninjured,  as  are  also  those  muscles  which  move 
them;  and  the  creature  proves  by  its  struggles  that  it  has 
abundant  strength.  Why,  then,  you  inquire  of  yourself,  does  it 
not  fly?  Occasion  favoring,  you  put  the  question  to  an  anato- 
mist, who  furnishes  you  with  a solution.  He  points  out  that 
this  solitary  shot  has  passed  close  to  the  place  at  which  the 
nerve  supplying  the  wing-muscles  of  one  side  diverges  from 
the  spine,  .and  that  a slight  injury  to  this  nerve,  extending 
even  to  the  rupture  of  a few  fibres,  may,  by  preventing  a 
perfect  co-ordination  in  the  actions  of  the  two  wings,  destroy 
the  power  of  flight.  You  are  no  longer  puzzled.  But  what 
has  happened?  What  has  changed  your  state  from  one  of 
perplexitj7  to  one  of  comprehension?  Simply  the  disclosure 
of  a class  of  previously  known  cases,  along  with  which  you 
can  include  this  case.  The  connection  between  lesions  of 
the  nervous  system  and  paralysis  of  limbs  has  been  already 
many  times  brought  under  your  notice,  and  you  here  find  a 
relation  of  cause  and  effect  that  is  essentially  similar. 

Let  us  suppose  you  are  led  on  to  make  further  inquiries 
concerning  organic  actions,  which,  conspicuous  and  remark- 
able, as  they  are,  you  had  not  before  cared  to  understand. 
How  is  respiration  effected?  you  ask  — why  does  air  period- 
ically rush  into  the  lungs?  The  answer  is,  that  in  the  higher 
vertebrata,  as  in  ourselves,  influx  of  air  is  caused  by  an  en- 
largement of  the  thoracic  cavity,  due  partly  to  depression 
of  the  diaphragm,  partly  to  elevation  of  the  ribs.  But  how 
does  elevation  of  the  ribs  enlarge  the  cavity?  In  reply  the 
anatomist  shows  you  that  the  plane  of  each  pair  of  ribs 
makes  an  acute  angle  with  the  spine;  that  this  angle  widens 
when  the  movable  ends  of  the  ribs  are  raised;  and  he  makes 
you  realize  the  consequent  dilatation  of  the  cavity,  by  point- 
ing out  how  the  area  of  a parallelogram  increases  as  its  angles 
approach  to  right  angles.  You  understand  this  special  fact 
when  you  see  it  to  be  an  instance  of  a general  geometrical  fact. 
There  still  arises,  however,  the  question.  Why  does  the  air 
rush  into  this  enlarged  cavity?  To  which  comes  the  answer. 


60 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


that  when  the  thoracic  cavity  is  enlarged  the  contained  air, 
partially  relieved  from  pressure,  expands,  and  so  loses  some  of 
its  resisting  power  — that  hence  it  opposes  to  the  pressure  of 
the  external  air  a less  pressure,  and  that  as  air,  like  every 
other  fluid,  presses  equally  in  all  directions,  motion  must  result 
along  any  line  in  which  the  resistance  is  less  than  elsewhere; 
whence  follows  an  inward  current.  And  this  interpretation 
you  recognize  as  one,  when  a few  facts  of  like  kind,  exhibited 
more  plainly  in  a visible  fluid  such  as  water,  are  cited  in 
illustration.  Again,  when  it  was  pointed  out  that  the  limbs 
are  compound  levers  acting  in  essentially  the  same  way  as 
levers  of  iron  or  wood,  you  might  consider  yourself  as  having 
obtained  a partial  rationale  of  animal  movements.  The  con- 
traction of  a muscle,  seeming  before  utterly  unaccountable, 
would  seem  less  unaccountable  were  you  shown  how,  by  a gal- 
vanic current,  a series  of  soft  iron  magnets  could  be  made  to 
shorten  itself  through  the  attraction  of  each  magnet  for  its 
neighbors  — an  alleged  analogy  which  especially  answers  the 
purpose  of  our  argument;  since,  whether  real  or  fancied,  it 
equally  illustrates  the  mental  illumination  that  results  on  find- 
ing a class  of  cases  within  which  a particular  case  may  possibly 
be  included.  And  it  may  be  further  noted  how,  in  the  instance 
here  named,  an  additional  feeling  of  comprehension  arises 
on  remembering  that  the  influence  conveyed  through  the  nerves 
to  the  muscles  is,  though  not  positively  electric,  yet  a form  of 
force  nearly  allied  to  the  electric.  Similarly,  when  you  learn 
that  animal  heat  arises  from  chemical  combination,  and  so 
is  evolved  as  heat  is  evolved  in  other  chemical  combinations  — 
when  you  learn  that  the  absorption  of  nutrient  fluids  through 
the  coats  of  the  intestines  is  an  instance  of  osmotic  action 
— -when  you  learn  that  the  changes  undergone  by  food  during 
digestion  are  like  changes,  artificially  producible  in  the  lab- 
oratory, you  regard  yourself  as  'knowing  something  about  the 
natures  of  these  phenomena. 

Observe  now  what  we  have  been  doing.  Turning  to  the 
general  question,  let  us  note  where  these  successive  interpre- 
tations have  carried  us.  We  began  with  quite  special  and 
concrete  facts.  In  explaining  each,  and  afterward  explaining 
the  more  general  facts  of  which  they  are  instances,  we  have 
got  down  to  certain  highly  general  facts;  to  a geometrical 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


61 


principle  or  property  of  space,  to  a simple  law  of  mechanical 
action,  to  a law  of  fluid  equilibrium  — to  truths  in  physics, 
in  chemistry,  in  thermology,  in  electricity.  The  particular 
phenomena  with  which  we  set  out  have  been  merged  in  larger 
and  larger  groups  of  phenomena,  and  as  they  have  been  so 
merged  we  have  arrived  at  solutions  that  we  consider  profound 
in  proportion  as  this  process  has  been  carried  far.  Still  deeper 
explanations  are  simply  further  steps  in  the  same  direction. 
When,  for  instance,  it  is  asked  why  the  law  of  action  of  the 
lever  is  what  it  is,  or  why  fluid  equilibrium  and  fluid  motion 
exhibit  the  relations  which  they  do,  the  answer  furnished  by 
mathematicians  consists  in  the  disclosure  of  the  principle  of 
virtual  velocities  - — ■ a principle  holding  true  alike  in  fluids  and 
solids,  a principle  under  which  the  others  are  comprehended. 
And  similarly,  the  insight  obtained  into  the  phenomena  of 
chemical  combination,  heat,  electricity,  etc.,  implies  that  a 
rationale  of  them,  when  found,  will  be  the  exposition  of  some 
highly  general  fact  respecting  the  constitution  of  matter,  of 
which  chemical,  electrical,  and  thermal  facts  are  merely  different 
manifestations. 

Is  this  process  limited  or  unlimited?  Can  we  go  on  forever 
explaining  classes  of  facts  by  including  them  in  larger  classes, 
or  must  we  eventually  come  to  a largest  class  ? The  supposition 
that  the  process  is  unlimited,  were  any  one  absurd  enough  to 
espouse  it,  would  still  imply  that  an  ultimate  explanation  could 
not  be  reached ; since  infinite  time  would  be  required  to  reach  it. 
While  the  unavoidable  conclusion  that  it  is  limited  (proved 
not  only  by  the  finite  sphere  of  observation  open  to  us,  but 
also  by  the  diminution  in  the  number  of  generalizations  that 
necessarily  accompanies  increase  of  their  breadth)  equally  im- 
plies that  the  ultimate  fact  cannot  be  understood.  For  if  the 
successively  deeper  interpretations  of  nature  which  constitute 
advancing  knowledge  are  merely  successive  inclusions  of  special 
truths  in  general  truths,  and  of  general  truths  in  truths  still 
more  general;  it  obviously  follows  that  the  most  general  truth, 
not  admitting  of  inclusion  in  any  other,  does  not  admit  of 
interpretation.  Manifestly,  as  the  most  general  cognition  at 
which  we  arrive  cannot  be  reduced  to  a more  general  one,  it  can- 
not be  understood.  Of  necessity,  therefore,  explanation  must 
eventually  bring  us  down  to  the  inexplicable.  The  deepest  truth 


02 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


which  we  can  get  at  must  be  unaccountable.  Comprehension 
must  become  something  other  than  comprehension  before  the 
ultimate  fact  can  be  comprehended. 

§ 24.  The  inference  which  we  thus  find  forced  upon  us 
when  we  analyze  the  product  of  thought  as  exhibited  objec- 
tively in  scientific  generalizations  is  equally  forced  upon  us 
by  an  analysis  of  the  process  of  thought  as  exhibited  sub- 
jectively in  consciousness.  The  demonstration  of  the  neces- 
sarily relative  character  of  our  knowledge,  as  deduced  from 
the  nature  of  intelligence,  has  been  brought  to  its  most  defi- 
nite shape  by  Sir  William  Hamilton.  I cannot  here  do  better 
than  extract  from  his  essay  on  the  “ Philosophy  of  the  Uncon- 
ditioned ” the  passage  containing  the  substance  of  his  doctrine. 

“ The  mind  can  conceive,”  he  argues,  “ and  consequently 
can  know,  only  the  limited , and  the  conditionally  limited.  The 
unconditionally  unlimited,  or  the  Infinite , the  unconditionally 
limited,  or  the  Absolute , cannot  positively  be  construed  to  the 
mind;  they  can  be  conceived  only  by  a thinking  away  from, 
or  abstraction  of,  those  very  conditions  under  which  thought 
itself  is  realized ; consequently,  the  notion  of  the  Unconditioned 
is  only  negative  — negative  of  the  conceivable  itself.  For 
example,  on  the  one  hand  we  can  positively  conceive  neither 
an  absolute  whole  — that  is,  a whole  so  great  that  we  cannot 
also  conceive  it  as  a relative  part  of  a still  greater  whole  ; nor 
an  absolute  part — that  is,  a part  so  small  that  we  cannot  also 
conceive  it  as  a relative  whole  divisible  into  smaller  parts. 
On  the  other  hand  we  cannot  positively  represent,  or  realize, 
or  construe  to  the  mind  (as  here  understanding  and  imagina- 
tion coincide),  an  infinite  whole;  for  this  could  only  be  done 
by  the  infinite  synthesis  in  thought  of  finite  wholes,  which 
would  itself  require  an  infinite  time  for  its  accomplishment. 
Nor,  for  the  same  reason,  can  we  follow  out  in  thought  an 
infinite  divisibility  of  parts.  The  result  is  the  same,  whether 
we  apply  the  process  to  limitation  in  space,  in  time,  or  in  degree. 
The  unconditional  negation,  and  the  unconditional  affirmation 
of  limitation;  in  other  words,  the  infinite  and  absolute,  prop- 
erly so  called,  are  thus  equally  inconceivable  to  us. 

“As  the  conditionally  limited  (which  we  may  briefly  call 
the  conditioned ) is  thus  the  only  possible  object  of  knowledge 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


63 


and  of  positive  thought  — thought  necessarily  supposes  condi- 
tions. To  think  is  to  condition;  and  conditional  limitation  is 
the  fundamental  law  of  the  possibility  of  thought.  For,  as  the 
greyhound  cannot  outstrip  his  shadow,  nor  (by  a more  appro- 
priate  simile)  the  eagle  outsoar  the  atmosphere  in  which  he 
floats,  and  by  which  alone  he  may  be  supported;  so  the  mind 
cannot  transcend  that  sphere  of  limitation  within  and  through 
which  exclusively  the  possibility  of  thought  is  realized.  Thought 
is  only  of  the  conditioned;  because,  as  we  have  said,  to  think 
is  simply  to  condition.  The  absolute  is  conceived  merely  by 
a negation  of  conceivability,  and  all  that  we  know  is  only 
known  as 

‘ won  from  the  void  and  formless  infinite; 

How,  indeed,  it  could  ever  be  doubted  that  thought  is  only 
of  the  conditioned  may  well  be  deemed  a matter  of  the  pro- 
foundest  admiration.  Thought  cannot  transcend  consciousness; 
consciousness  is  only  possible  under  the  antithesis  of  a subject 
and  object  of  thought,  known  only  in  correlation,  and  mutually 
limiting  each  other;  while  independently  of  this  all  that  we 
know  either  of  subject  or  object,  either  of  mind  or  matter,  is 
only  a knowledge  in  each  of  the  particular,  of  the  plural,  of  the 
different,  of  the  modified,  of  the  phenomenal.  We  admit  that 
the  consequence  of  this  doctrine  is  — that  philosophy,  if  viewed 
as  more  than  a science  of  the  conditioned,  is  impossible.  De- 
parting from  the  particular,  we  admit  that  we  can  never,  in 
our  highest  generalizations,  rise  above  the  finite  - — that  our 
knowledge,  whether  of  mind  or  matter,  can  be  nothing  more 
than  a knowledge  of  the  relative  manifestations  of  an  existence, 
which  in  itself  it  is  our  highest  wisdom  to  recognize  as  be3nnd 
the  reach  of  philosophy  — in  the  language  of  St.  Augustine, 
‘ cognoscendo  ignorari , et  ignorando  cognosci.’ 

“ The  conditioned  is  the  mean  between  two  extremes  — two 
inconditionates,  exclusive  of  each  other,  neither  of  which  can 
be  conceived  as  possible,  but  of  which,  on  the  principles  of 
contradiction  and  excluded  middle,  one  must  be  admitted  as 
necessary.  On  this  opinion,  therefore,  reason  is  shown  to  be 
weak,  but  not  deceitful.  The  mind  is  not  represented  as  con- 
ceiving two  propositions  subversive  of  each  other,  as  equally 
possible;  but  only  as  unable  to  understand  as  possible  either 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


64 

of  two  extremes  — one  of  which,  however,  on  the  ground  of 
their  mutual  repugnance,  it  is  compelled  to  recognize  as  true. 
We  are  thus  taught  the  salutary  lesson  that  the  capacity  of 
thought  is  not  to  be  constituted  into  the  measure  of  existence, 
and  are  warned  from  recognizing  the  domain  of  our  knowledge 
as  necessarily  co-extensive  with  the  horizon  of  our  faith.  And 
by  a wonderful  revelation,  we  are  thus,  in  the  very  conscious- 
ness of  our  inability  to  conceive  aught  above  the  relative  and 
finite,  inspired  with  a belief  in  the  existence  of  something 
unconditioned  beyond  the  sphere  of  all  comprehensible  reality.” 
Clear  and  conclusive  as  this  statement  of  the  case  appears 
when  carefully  studied,  it  is  expressed  in  so  abstract  a manner 
as  to  be  not  very  intelligible  to  the  general  reader.  A more 
popular  presentation  of  it,  with  illustrative  applications,  as 
given  by  Mr.  Mansel  in  his  “ Limits  of  Religious  Thought,” 
will  make  it  more  fully  understood.  The  following  extracts, 
which  I take  the  liberty  of  making  from  his  pages,  will  suffice: 
“ The  very  conception  of  consciousness,  in  whatever  mode 
it  may  be  manifested,  necessarily  implies  distinction  between 
one  object  and  another.  To  be  conscious,  we  must  be  conscious 
of  something,  and  that  something  can  only  be  known  as  that 
which  it  is  by  being  distinguished  from  that  which  it  is  not. 
But  distinction  is  necessarily  limitation;  for  if  one  object 
is  to  be  distinguished  from  another  it  must  possess  some  form 
of  existence  which  the  other  has  not,  or  it  must  not  possess 
some  form  which  the  other  has.  But  it  is  obvious  that  the 
Infinite  cannot  be  distinguished,  as  such,  from  the  Finite  by 
the  absence  of  any  quality  which  the  Finite  possesses;  for  such 
absence  would  be  a limitation.  Nor  yet  can  it  be  distinguished 
by  the  presence  of  an  attribute  which  the  Finite  has  not;  for, 
as  no  finite  part  can  be  a constitutent  of  an  infinite  whole, 
this  differential  characteristic  must  itself  be  infinite,  and  must 
at  the  same  time  have  nothing  in  common  with  the  finite.  We 
are  thus  thrown  back  upon  our  former  impossibility,  for  this 
second  infinite  will  be  distinguished  from  the  finite  by  the 
absence  of  qualities  which  the  latter  possesses.  A consciousness 
of  the  Infinite,  as  such,  thus  necessarily  involves  a self-contra- 
diction; for  it  implies  the  recognition,  by  limitation  and 
difference,  of  that  which  can  only  be  given  as  unlimited  and 
indifferent. 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


65 


“ This  contradiction,  which  is  utterly  inexplicable  on  the 
supposition  that  the  infinite  is  a positive  object  of  human 
thought,  is  at  once  accounted  for  when  it  is  regarded  as  the 
mere  negation  of  thought.  If  all  thought  is  limitation  — if 
whatever  we  conceive  is,  by  the  very  act  of  conception,  regarded 
as  finite  — the  infinite , from  a human  point  of  view,  is  merely 
a name  for  the  absence  of  those  conditions  under  which  thought 
is  possible.  To  speak  of  a Conception  of  the  Infinite,  is,  there- 
fore, at  once  to  affirm  those  conditions  and  to  deny  them.  The 
contradiction  which  we  discover  in  such  a conception  is  only 
that  which  we  have  ourselves  placed  there  by  tacitly  assuming 
the  conceivability  of  the  inconceivable.  The  condition  of  con- 
sciousness is  distinction,  and  condition  of  distinction  is  limita- 
tion. We  can  have  no  consciousness  of  Being  in  general  which 
is  not  some  Being  in  particular.  A thing,  in  consciousness,  is 
one  thing  out  of  many.  In  assuming  the  possibility  of  an 
infinite  object  of  consciousness  I assume,  therefore,  that  it . is 
at  the  same  time  limited  and  unlimited  — actually  something, 
without  which  it  could  not  be  an  object  of  consciousness,  and 
actually  nothing,  without  which  it  could  not  be  infinite.  . . . 

“ A second  characteristic  of  Consciousness  is  that  it  is  only 
possible  in  the  form  of  a relation.  There  must  be  a Subject, 
or  person  conscious,  and  an  Object,  or  thing  of  which  he  is 
conscious.  There  can  be  no  consciousness  without  the  union 
of  these  two  factors,  and  in  that  union  each  exists  only  as  it 
is  related  to  the  other.  The  subject  is  a subject  only  in  so  far  as 
it  is  conscious  of  an  object;  the  object  is  an  object  only  in  so  far 
as  it  is  apprehended  by  a subject;  and  the  destruction  of  either 
is  the  destruction  of  consciousness  itself.  It  is  thus  manifest 
that  a consciousness  of  the  Absolute  is  equally  self-contradictory 
with  that  of  the  Infinite.  To  be  conscious  of  the  Absolute,  as 
such,  we  must  know  that  an  object  which  is  given  in  relation 
to  our  consciousness  is  identical  with  one  which  exists  in  its 
own  nature,  out  of  all  relation  to  consciousness.  But  to  know 
this  identity  we  must  be  able  to  compare  the  two  together;  and 
such  a comparison  is  itself  a contradiction.  We  are  in  fact 
required  to  compare  that  of  which  we  are  conscious  with  that 
of  which  we  are  not  conscious;  the  comparison  itself  being 
an  act  of  consciousness,  and  only  possible  through  the  con- 
sciousness of  both  its  objects.  It  is  thus  manifest  that,  even 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


66 

if  we  could  be  conscious  of  the  absolute,  we  could  not  possibly 
know  that  it  is  the  absolute ; and,  as  we  can  be  conscious  of 
an  object,  as  such,  only  by  knowing  it  to  be  what  it  is,  this  is 
equivalent  to  an  admission  that  we  cannot  be  conscious  of  the 
absolute  at  all.  As  an  object  of  consciousness  everything  is 
necessarily  relative,  and  what  a thing  may  be  out  of  conscious- 
ness no  mode  of  consciousness  can  tell  us. 

“ This  contradiction,  again,  admits  of  the  same  explana- 
tion as  the  former.  Our  whole  notion  of  existence  is  neces- 
sarily relative,  for  it  is  existence  as  conceived  by  us.  But 
Existence,  as  we  conceive  it,  is  but  a name  for  the  several  ways 
in  which  objects  are  presented  to  our  consciousness  — a general 
term,  embracing  a variety  of  relations.  The  Absolute,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  a term  expressing  no  object  of  thought,  but  only 
a denial  of  the  relation  by  which  thought  is  constituted.  To 
assume  absolute  existence  as  an  object  of  thought  is  thus  to 
suppose  a relation  existing  when  the  related  terms  exist  no 
longer.  An  object  of  thought  exists,  as  such,  in  and  through 
its  relation  to  a thinker;  while  the  Absolute,  as  such,  is  inde- 
pendent of  all  relation.  The  Conception  of  the  Absolute  thus 
implies  at  the  same  time  the  presence  and  absence  of  the 
relation  by  which  thought  is  constituted,  and  our  various  en- 
deavors to  represent  it  are  only  so  many  modified  forms  of  the 
contradiction  involved  in  our  original  assumption.  Here,  too, 
the  contradiction  is  one  which  we  ourselves  have  made.  It 
does  not  imply  that  the  Absolute  cannot  exist,  but  it  implies 
most  certainly  that  we  cannot  conceive  it  as  existing.” 

Here  let  me  point  out  how  the  same  general  inference  may 
be  evolved  from  another  fundamental  condition  of  thought, 
omitted  by  Sir  W.  Hamilton,  and  not  supplied  by  Mr.  Mansel 
— a condition  which,  under  its  obverse  aspect,  we  have  already 
contemplated  in  the  last  section.  Every  complete  act  of  con- 
sciousness, besides  distinction  and  relation,  also  implies  likeness. 
Before  it  can  become  an  idea,  or  constitute  a piece  of  knowledge, 
a mental  state  must  not  only  be  known  as  separate  in  kind 
from  certain  foregoing  states  to  which  it  is  known  as  related 
by  succession;  but  it  must  further  be  known  as  of  the  same 
kind  with  certain  other  foregoing  states.  That  organization 
of  changes  which  constitutes  thinking  involves  continuous  in- 
tegration as  well  as  continuous  differentiation.  Were  each  new 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


67 


affection  of  the  mind  perceived  simply  as  an  affection  in  some 
way  contrasted  with  the  preceding  ones  — were  there  but  a 
chain  of  impressions,  each  of  which  as  it  arose  was  merely 
distinguished  from  its  predecessors,  consciousness  would  be  an 
utter  chaos.  To  produce  that  orderly  consciousness  which 
we  call  intelligence  there  requires  the  assimilation  of  each 
impression  to  others,  that  occurred  earlier  in  the  series.  Both 
the  successive  mental  states  and  the  successive  relations  which 
they  bear  to  each  other,  must  be  classified,  and  classification 
involves  not  only  a parting  of  the  unlike,  but  also  a binding 
together  of  the  like.  In  brief,  a true  cognition  is  possible  only 
through  an  accompanying  recognition.  Should  it  be  objected 
that  if  so  there  cannot  be  a first  cognition,  and  hence  there  can 
be  no  cognition ; the  reply  is  that  cognition  proper  arises  gradu- 
ally — that  during  the  first  stage  of  incipient  intelligence,  before 
the  feelings  produced  by  intercourse  with  the  outer  world  have 
been  put  into  order,  there  are  no  cognitions,  strictly  so-called; 
and  that,  as  every  infant  shows  us,  these  slowly  emerge  out  of 
the  confusion  of  unfolding  consciousness  as  fast  as  the  experi- 
ences are  arranged  into  groups  — as  fast  as  the  most  frequently 
repeated  sensations  and  their  relations  to  each  other  become 
familiar  enough  to  admit  of  their  recognition  as  such  or  such 
whenever  they  recur.  Should  it  be  further  objected  that  if 
cognition  pre-supposes  recognition  there  can  be  no  cognition, 
even  by  an  adult,  of  an  object  never  before  seen,  there  is  still 
the  sufficient  answer  that  in  so  far  as  it  is  not  assimilated  to 
previously  seen  objects  it  is  not  known,  and  that  it  is  known 
in  so  far  as  it  is  assimilated  to  them.  Of  this  paradox  the 
interpretation  is,  that  an  object  is  classifiable  in  various  ways, 
with  various  degrees  of  completeness.  An  animal  hitherto 
unknown  (mark  the  word),  though  not  referable  to  any  estab- 
lished species  or  genus,  is  yet  recognized  as  belonging  to  one  of 
the  larger  divisions- — -mammals,  birds,  reptiles,  or  fishes;  or 
should  it  be  so  anomalous  that  its  alliance  with  any  of  these 
is  not  determinable,  it  may  yet  be  classed  as  vertebrate  or  in- 
vertebrate; or,  if  it  be  one  of  those  organisms  of  which  it  is 
doubtful  whether  the  animal  or  vegetable  characteristics  pre- 
dominate, it  is  still  known  as  a living  body;  even  should  it  be 
questioned  whether  it  is  organic,  it  remains  beyond  question 
that  it  is  a material  object,  and  it  is  cognized  by  being  recog- 


08  FIRST  PRINCIPLES 

nized  as  such.  Whence  it  is  manifest  that  a thing  is  perfectly 
known  only  when  it  is  in  all  respects  like  certain  things  pre- 
viously observed  — that  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  respects 
in  which  it  is  unlike  them  is  the  extent  to  which  it  is  unknown ; 
and  that  hence,  when  it  has  absolutely  no  attribute  in  common 
with  anything  else,  it  must  be  absolutely  beyond  the  bounds  of 
knowledge. 

Observe  the  corollary  which  here  concerns  us.  A cognition 
of  the  Eeal  as  distinguished  from  the  Phenomenal  must,  if  it 
exists,  conform  to  this  law  of  cognition  in  general.  The  First 
Cause,  the  Infinite,  the  Absolute,  to  be  known  at  all,  must  be 
classed.  To  be  positively  thought  of,  it  must  be  thought  of 
as  such  or  such  — as  of  this  or  that  kind.  Can  it  be  like  in 
kind  to  anything  of  which  we  have  sensible  experience?  Ob- 
viously not.  Between  the  creating  and  the  created  there  must 
be  a distinction  transcending  any  of  the  distinctions  existing 
between  different  divisions  of  the  created.  That  which  is  un- 
caused cannot  be  assimilated  to  that  which  is  caused;  the  two 
being  in  the  very  naming  antithetically  opposed.  The  Infinite 
cannot  be  grouped  along  with  something  that  is  finite;  since  in 
being  so  grouped  it  must  be  regarded  as  not-infinite.  It  is 
impossible  to  put  the  Absolute  in  the  same  category  with  any- 
thing relative,  so  long  as  the  Absolute  is  defined  as  that  of 
which  no  necessary  relation  can  be  predicated.  Is  it  then  that 
the  Actual,  though  unthinkable  by  classification  with  the 
Apparent,  is  thinkable  by  classification  with  itself?  This  sup- 
position is  equally  absurd  with  the  other.  It  implies  the 
plurality  of  the  First  Cause,  the  Infinite,  the  Absolute ; and  this 
implication  is  self-contradictory.  There  cannot  be  more  than 
one  First  Cause;  seeing  that  the  existence  of  more  than  one 
would  involve  the  existence  of  something  necessitating  more 
than  one,  which  something  would  be  the  true  First  Cause. 
How  self-destructive  is  the  assumption  of  two  or  more  Infinites 
is  manifest  on  remembering  that  such  Infinites,  by  limiting 
each  other,  would  become  finite.  And  similarly,  an  Absolute 
which  existed  not  alone,  but  along  with  other  Absolutes,  would 
no  longer  be  an  absolute  but  a relative.  The  Unconditioned, 
therefore,  as  classable  neither  with  any  form  of  the  conditioned 
nor  with  any  other  Unconditioned,  cannot  be  classed  at  all.  And 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


69 


to  admit  that  it  cannot  be  known  as  of  such  or  such  kind  is  to 
admit  that  it  is  unknowable. 

Thus,  from  the  very  nature  of  thought,  the  relativity  of  our 
knowledge  is  inferable  in  three  several  ways.  As  we  find  by 
analyzing  it,  and  as  we  see  it  objectively  displayed  in  every 
proposition,  a thought  involves  relation , difference , likeness. 
Whatever  does  not  present  each  of  these  does  not  admit  of 
cognition.  And  hence  we  may  say  that  the  Unconditioned,  as 
presenting  none  of  them,  is  trebly  unthinkable. 


§ 25.  From  yet  another  point  of  view  we  may  discern  the 
same  great  truth.  If,  instead  of  examining  our  intellectual 
powers  directly  as  exhibited  in  the  act  of  thought,  or  indirectly 
as  exhibited  in  thought  when  expressed  by  words,  we  look  at 
the  connection  between  the  mind  and  the  world,  a like  con- 
clusion is  forced  upon  us.  In  the  very  definition  of  Life,  when 
reduced  to  its  most  abstract  shape,  this  ultimate  implication 
becomes  visible. 

All  vital  actions,  considered  not  separately  but  in  their  en- 
semble, have  for  their  final  purpose  the  balancing  of  certain 
outer  processes  by  certain  inner  processes.  There  are  unceasing 
external  forces  tending  to  bring  the  matter  of  which  organic 
bodies  consist  into  that  state  of  stable  equilibrium  displayed 
by  inorganic  bodies;  there  are  internal  forces  by  which  this 
tendency  is  constantly  antagonized;  and  the  perpetual  changes 
which  constitute  Life  may  be  regarded  as  incidental  to  the 
maintenance  of  the  antagonism.  To  preserve  the  erect  posture, 
for  instance,  we  see  that  certain  weights  have  to  be  neutralized 
by  certain  strains;  each  limb  or  other  organ  gravitating  to  the 
Earth  and  pulling  down  the  parts  to  which  it  is  attached  has 
to  be  preserved  in  position  by  the  tension  of  sundry  muscles; 
or,  in  other  words,  the  group  of  forces  which  would,  if  allowed, 
bring  the  body  to  the  ground,  has  to  be  counterbalanced  by 
another  group  of  forces.  Again,  to  keep  up  the  temperature 
at  a particular  point  the  external  process  of  radiation  and 
absorption  of  heat  by  the  surrounding  medium  must  be  met 
by  a corresponding  internal-  process  of  chemical  combination, 
whereby  more  heat  may  be  evolved;  to  which  add,  that  if  from 
atmospheric  changes  the  loss  becomes  greater  or  less  the  pro- 


70 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


duction  must  become  greater  or  less.  And  similarly  throughout 
the  organic  actions  in  general. 

When  we  contemplate  the  lower  kinds  of  life  we  see  that 
the  correspondences  thus  maintained  are  direct  and  simple; 
as  in  a plant,  the  vitality  of  which  mainly  consists  in  osmotic 
and  chemical  actions  responding  to  the  co-existence  of  light, 
heat,  water,  and  carbonic  acid  around  it.  But  in  animals, 
and  especially  in  the  higher  orders  of  them,  the  correspondences 
become  extremely  complex.  Materials  for  growth  and  repair  not 
being,  like  those  which  plants  require,  everywhere  present,  but 
being  widely  dispersed  and  under  special  forms,  have  to  be  found, 
to  be  secured,  and  to  be  reduced  to  a lit  state  for  assimilation. 
Hence  the  need  for  locomotion;  hence  the  need  for  the  senses; 
hence  the  need  for  prehensile  and  destructive  appliances;  hence 
the  need  for  an  elaborate  digestive  apparatus.  Observe,  however, 
that  these  successive  complications  are  essentially  nothing  but 
aids  to  the  maintenance  of  the  organic  balance  in  its  integrity, 
in  opposition  to  those  physical,  chemical,  and  other  agencies 
which  tend  to  overturn  it.  And  observe,  moreover,  that  while 
these  successive  complications  subserve  this  fundamental  adap- 
tation of  inner  to  outer  actions,  they  are  themselves  nothing  else 
but  further  adaptations  of  inner  to  outer  actions.  For  what 
are  those  movements  by  which  a predatory  creature  pursues 
its  prey,  or  by  which  its  prey  seeks  to:  escape,  but  certain  changes 
in  the  organism  fitted  to  meet  certain  changes  in  its  environ- 
ment? What  is  that  compound  operation  which  constitutes 
the  perception  of  a piece  of  food,  but  a particular  correlation 
of  nervous  modifications  answering  to  a particular  correlation 
of  physical  properties?  What  is  that  process  by  which  food 
when  swallowed  is  reduced  to  a fit  form  for  assimilation  but  a 
set  of  mechanical  and  chemical  actions  responding  to  the 
mechanical  and  chemical  actions  which  distinguish  the  food? 
Whence  it  becomes  manifest  that  while  Life  in  its  simplest  form 
is  the  correspondence  of  certain  inner  physico-chemical  actions 
with  certain  outer  physico-chemical  actions,  each  advance  to 
a higher  form  of  Life  consists  in  a better  preservation  of  this 
primary  correspondence  by  the  establishment  of  other  corre- 
spondences. 

Divesting  this  conception  of  all  superfluities  and  reducing 
it  to  its  most  abstract  shape,  we  see  that  Life  is  definable  as 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


71 


the  continuous  adjustment  of  internal  relations  to  external  rela- 
tions. And  when  we  so  define  it  we  discover  that  the  physical 
and  the  psychical  life  are  equally  comprehended  by  the  defini- 
tion. We  perceive  that  this  which  we  call  Intelligence  shows 
itself  when  the  external  relations  to  which  the  internal  ones 
are  adjusted  begin  to  be  numerous,  complex,  and  remote  in 
time  or  space;  that  every  advance  in  Intelligence  essentially 
consists  in  the  establishment  of  more  varied,  more  complete, 
and  more  involved  adjustments ; and  that  even  the  highest 
achievements  of  science  are  resolvable  into  mental  relations  of 
co-existence  and  sequence,  so  co-ordinated  as  exactly  to  tally 
with  certain  relations  of  co-existence  and  sequence  that  occur 
externally.  A caterpillar  wandering  at  random  and  at  length 
finding  its  way  on  to  a plant  having  a certain  odor,  begins  to 
eat  — has  inside  of  it  an  organic  relation  between  a particular 
impression  and  a particular  set  of  actions,  answering  to  the 
relation  outside  of  it,  between  scent  and  nutriment.  The  spar- 
row, guided  by  the  more  complex  correlation  of  impressions 
which  the  color,  form,  and  movements  of  the  caterpillar  gave 
it;  and  guided  also  by  other  correlations,  which  measure  the 
position  and  distance  of  the  caterpillar;  adjusts  certain  corre- 
lated muscular  movements  in  such  way  as  to  seize  the  caterpillar. 
Through  a much  greater  distance  in  space  is  the  hawk,  hover- 
ing above,  affected  by  the  relations  of  shape  and  motion  which 
the  sparrow  presents ; and  the  much  more  complicated  and 
prolonged  series  of  related  nervous  and  muscular  changes,  gone 
through  in  correspondence  with  the  sparrow’s  changing  rela- 
tions of  position,  finally  succeed  when  they  are  precisely  adjusted 
to  these  changing  relations.  In  the  fowler  experience  has 
established  a relation  between  the  appearance  and  flight  of  a 
hawk  and  the  destruction  of  other  birds,  including  game.  There 
is  also  in  him  an  established  relation  between  those  visual 
impressions  answering  to  a certain  distance  in  space  and  the 
range  of  his  gun ; and  he  has  learned,  too,  by  frequent  observa- 
tion, what  relations  of  position  the  sights  must  bear  to  a point 
somewhat  in  advance  of  the  flying  bird,  before  he  can  fire 
with  success.  Similarly,  if  we  go  back  to  the  manufacture  of 
the  gun.  By  relations  of  co-existence  between  color,  density, 
and  place  in  the  earth,  a particular  mineral  is  known  as  one 
which  yields  iron;  and  the  obtainment  of  iron  from  it  results 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


when  certain  correlated  acts  of  ours  are  adjusted  to  certain 
correlated  affinities  displayed  by  ironstone,  coal,  and  lime,  at  a 
high  temperature.  If  we  descend  yet  a step  further,  and  ask 
a chemist  to  explain  the  explosion  of  gunpowder,  or  apply  to  a 
mathematician  for  a theory  of  projectiles,  we  still  find  that 
special  or  general  relations  of  co-existence  and  sequence  between 
properties,  motions,  spaces,  etc.,  are  all  they  can  teach  us. 
And  lastly,  let  it  be  noted  that  what  we  call  truth,  guiding  us 
to  successful  action  and  the  consequent  maintenance  of  life,  is 
simply  the  accurate  correspondence  of  subjective  to  objective 
relations ; while  error , leading  to  failure  and  therefore  toward 
death,  is  the  absence  of  such  accurate  correspondence. 

If,  then,  Life  in  all  its  manifestations,  inclusive  of  Intelli- 
gence in  its  highest  forms,  consists  in  the  continuous  adjustment 
of  internal  relations  to  external  relations,  the  necessarily  relative 
character  of  our  knowledge  becomes  obvious.  The  simplest 
cognition  being  the  establishment  of  some  connection  between 
subjective  states,  answering  to  some  connection  between  ob- 
jective agencies;  and  each  successively  more  complex  cognition 
being  the  establishment  of  some  more  involved  connection  of 
such  states,  answering  to  some  more  involved  connection  of  such 
agencies;  it  is  clear  that  the  process,  no  matter  how  far  it  be 
carried,  can  never  bring  within  the  reach  of  Intelligence  either 
the  states  themselves  or  the  agencies  themselves.  Ascertaining 
which  things  occur  along  with  which,  and  what  things  follow 
what,  supposing  it  to  be  pursued  exhaustively,  must  still  leave 
us  with  co-existences  and  sequences  only.  If  every  act  of 
knowing  is  the  formation  of  a relation  in  consciousness  parallel 
to  a relation  in  the  environment,  then  the  relativity  of  knowl- 
edge is  self-evident  — becomes,  indeed,  a truism.  Thinking 
being  relationing,  no  thought  can  ever  express  more  than  rela- 
tions. 

And  here  let  us  not  omit  to  mark  how  that  to  which  our 
intelligence  is  confined  is  that  with  which  alone  our  intelli- 
gence is  concerned.  The  knowledge  within  our  reach  is  the 
only  knowledge  that  can  be  of  service  to  us.  This  maintenance 
of  a correspondence  between  internal  actions  and  external 
actions,  which  both  constitutes  our  life  at  each  moment  and  is 
the  means  whereby  life  is  continued  through  subsequent  mo- 
ments, merely  requires  that  the  agencies  acting  upon  us  shall 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


73 


be  known  in  their  co-existences  and  sequences,  and  not  that 
they  shall  be  known  in  themselves.  If  x and  y are  two  uni- 
formly connected  properties  in  some  outer  object,  while  a and  5 
are  the  effects  they  produce  in  our  consciousness;  and  if  while 
the  property  x produces  in  us  the  indifferent  mental  state  a,  the 
property  y produces  in  us  the  painful  mental  state  5 (answering 
to  a physical  injury)  ; then,  all  that  is  requisite  for  our  guid- 
ance is,  that  x being  the  uniform  accompaniment  of  y externally, 
a shall  be  the  uniform  accompaniment  of  6 internally;  so  that 
when,  by  the  presence  of  x , a is  produced  in  consciousness,  b,  or 
rather  the  idea  of  6,  shall  follow  it,  and  excite  the  motions  by 
which  the  effect  of  y may  be  escaped.  The  sole  need  is  that 
a and  b and  the  relation  between  them,  shall  always  answer  to 
x and  y and  the  relation  between  them.  It  matters  nothing  to 
us  if  a and  b are  like  x and  y or  not.  Could  they  be  exactly 
identical  with  them  we  should  not  be  one  whit  the  better  off, 
aDd  their  total  dissimilarity  is  no  disadvantage  to  us. 

Deep  down,  then,  in  the  very  nature  of  Life  the  relativity 
of  our  knowledge  is  discernible.  The  analysis  of  vital  actions 
in  general  leads  not  only  to  the  conclusion  that  things  in 
themselves  cannot  be  known  to  us,  but  also  to  the  conclusion 
that  knowledge  of  them,  were  it  possible,  would  be  useless. 

§ 26.  There  still  remains  the  final  question.  What  must  we 
say  concerning  that  which  transcends  knowledge?  Are  we  to 
rest  wholly  in  the  consciousness  of  phenomena?  Is  the  result 
of  inquiry  to  exclude  utterly  from  our  minds  everything  but  the 
relative  ? or  must  we  also  believe  in  something  beyond  the 
relative  ? 

The  answer  of  pure  logic  is  held  to  be,  that  by  the  limits 
of  our  intelligence  we  are  rigorously  confined  within  the  relative, 
and  that  anything  transcending  the  relative  can  be  thought  of 
only  as  a pure  negation  or  as  a non-existence.  “ The  absolute 
is  conceived  merely  by  a negation  of  conceivability,”  writes  Sir 
William  Hamilton.  “ The  Absolute  and  the  Infinite  ’’  sajrs  Mr. 
Mansel,  “ are  thus,  like  the  Inconceivable  and  the  Imperceptible, 
names  indicating,  not  an  object  of  thought  or  of  consciousness 
at  all,  but  the  mere  absence  of  the  conditions  under  which  con- 
sciousness is  possible.”  From  each  of  which  extracts  may  be 
deduced  the  conclusion,  that  since  reason  cannot  warrant  us  in 


74 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


affirming  the  positive  existence  of  what  is  cognizable  only  as  a 
negation,  we  cannot  rationally  affirm  the  positive  existence  of 
anything  beyond  phenomena. 

Unavoidable  as  this  conclusion  seems,  it  involves,  I think,  a 
grave  error.  If  the  premise  be  granted,  the  inference  must 
doubtless  be  admitted;  but  the  premise,  in  the  form  presented 
by  Sir  William  Hamilton  and  Mr.  Mansel,  is  not  strictly  true. 
Though,  in  the  foregoing  pages,  the  arguments  used  by  these 
writers  to  show  that  the  Absolute  is  unknowable  have  been 
approvingly  quoted,  and  though  these  arguments  have  been 
enforced  by  others  equally  thoroughgoing,  yet  there  remains  to 
be  stated  a qualification  which  saves  us  from  that  scepticism 
otherwise  necessitated.  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  so  long  as 
we  confine  ourselves  to  the  purely  logical  aspect  of  the  question 
the  jiropositions  quoted  above  must  be  accepted  in  their  entirety ; 
but  when  we  contemplate  its  more  general,  or  psychological, 
aspect  we  find  that  these  propositions  are  imperfect  statements 
of  the  truth  — omitting,  or  rather  excluding,  as  they  do,  an 
all-important  fact.  To  speak  specifically : Besides  that  definite 
consciousness  of  which  Logic  formulates  the  laws,  there  is  also 
an  indefinite  consciousness,  which  cannot  be  formulated.  Be- 
sides complete  thoughts,  and  besides  the  thoughts  which  though 
incomplete  admit  of  completion,  there  are  thoughts  which  it  is 
impossible  to  complete,  and  yet  which  are  still  real,  in  the  sense 
that  they  are  normal  affections  of  the  intellect. 

Observe  in  the  first  place  that  every  one  of  the  arguments 
by  which  the  relativity  of  our  knowledge  is  demonstrated 
distinctly  postulates  the  positive  existence  of  something  beyond 
the  relative.  To  say  that  we  cannot  know  the  Absolute  is,  by 
implication,  to  affirm  that  there  is  an  Absolute.  In  the  very 
denial  of  our  power  to  learn  what  the  Absolute  is,  there  lies 
hidden  the  assumption  that  it  is ; and  the  making  of  this  assump- 
tion proves  that  the  Absolute  has  been  present  to  the  mind,  not 
as  a nothing,  but  as  a something.  Similarly  with  every  step 
in  the  reasoning  by  which  this  doctrine  is  upheld.  The  Nou- 
menon,  everywhere  named  as  the  antithesis  of  the  Phenomenon, 
is  throughout  necessarily  thought  of  as  an  actuality.  It  is 
rigorously  impossible  to  conceive  that  our  knowledge  is  a 
knowledge  of  Appearances  only,  without  at  the  same  time  con- 
ceiving a Keality  of  which  they  are  appearances ; for  appearance 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


75 


without  reality  is  unthinkable.  Strike  out  from  the  argument 
the  terms  Unconditioned,  Infinite,  Absolute,  with  their  equiva- 
lents, and  in  place  of  them  write  “ negation  of  conceivability,” 
or  “ absence  of  the  conditions  under  which  consciousness  is 
possible,”  and  you  find  that  the  argument  becomes  nonsense. 
Truly  to  realize  in  thought  any  one  of  the  propositions  of 
which  the  argument  consists,  the  Unconditioned  must  be  repre- 
sented as  positive  and  not  negative.  How,  then,  can  it  be  a 
legitimate  conclusion  from  the  argument  that  our  conscious- 
ness of  it  is  negative?  An  argument,  the  very  construction  of 
which  assigns  to  a certain  term  a certain  meaning,  but  which 
ends  in  showing  that  this  term  has  no  such  meaning,  is  simply 
an  elaborate  suicide.  Clearly,  then,  the  very  demonstration  that 
a definite  consciousness  of  the  Absolute  is  impossible  to  us, 
unavoidably  presupposes  an  indefinite  consciousness  of  it. 

Perhaps  the  best  way  of  showing  that  by  the  necessary  condi- 
tions of  thought  we  are  obliged  to  form  a positive  though 
vague  consciousness  of  this  which  transcends  distinct  conscious- 
ness, is  to  analyze  our  conception  of  the  antithesis  between 
relative  and  absolute.  It  is  a doctrine  called  in  question  by 
none,  that  such  antinomies  of  thought  as  Whole  and  Part, 
Equal  and  Unequal,  Singular  and  Plural  are  necessarily  con- 
ceived as  correlatives.  The  conception  of  a part  is  impossible 
without  the  conception  of  a whole.  There  can  be  no  idea  of 
equality  without  one  of  inequality.  And  it  is  admitted  that 
in  the  same  manner  the  Eelative  is  itself  conceivable  as  such 
only  by  opposition  to  the  Irrelative  or  Absolute.  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  however,  in  his  trenchant  (and  in  most  parts  un- 
answerable) criticism  on  Cousin,  contends,  in  conformity  with 
his  position  above  stated,  that  one  of  these  correlatives  is  nothing 
whatever  beyond  the  negation  of  the  other.  “ Correlatives,”  he 
says,  “ certainly  suggest  each  other,  but  correlatives  may  or  may 
not  be  equally  real  and  positive.  In  thought  contradictories 
necessarily  imply  each  other,  for  the  knowledge  of  contra- 
dictories is  one.  But  the  reality  of  one  contradictory,  so  far 
from  guaranteeing  the  reality  of  the  other,  is  nothing  else  than 
its  negation.  Thus  every  positive  notion  (the  concept  of  a 
thing  by  what  it  is)  suggests  a negative  notion  (the  concept 
of  a thing  by  what  it  is  not)  ; and  the  highest  positive  notion, 
the  notion  of  the  conceivable,  is  not  without  its  corresponding 


TO 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


negative  in  the  notion  of  the  inconceivable.  But  though  these 
mutually  suggest  each  other,  the  positive  alone  is  real ; the 
negative  is  only  an  abstraction  of  the  other,  and  in  the  highest 
generality  even  an  abstraction  of  thought  itself.”  Noav  the 
assertion  that  of  such  contradictories  “ the  negative  is  only  an 
abstraction  of  the  other  ” — ■“  is  nothing  else  than  its  negation  ” 
— is  not  true.  In  such  correlatives  as  Equal  and  Unequal  it  is 
obvious  enough  that  the  negative  concept  contains  something 
besides  the  negation  of  the  positive  one ; for  the  things  of  which 
equality  is  denied  are  not  abolished  from  consciousness  by  the 
denial.  And  the  fact  overlooked  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  is, 
that  the  like  holds  even  with  those  correlatives  of  which  the 
negative  is  inconceivable,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word.  Take, 
for  example,  the  Limited  and  the  Unlimited.  Our  notion  of 
the  Limited  is  composed  first  of  a consciousness  of  some  kind  of 
being,  and  secondly  of  a consciousness  of  the  limits  under  which 
it  is  known.  In  the  antithetical  notion  of  the  Unlimited  the 
consciousness  of  limits  is  abolished,  but  not  the  consciousness 
of  some  kind  of  being.  It  is  quite  true  that  in  the  absence 
of  conceived  limits  this  consciousness  ceases  to  be  a concept, 
properly  so  called ; but  it  is  none  the  less  true  that  it  re- 
mains as  a mode  of  consciousness.  If  in  such  cases  the  nega- 
tive contradictory  were,  as  alleged,  “ nothing  else  ” than  the 
negation  of  the  other,  and  therefore  a mere  nonentity,  then 
it  would  clearly  follow  that  negative  contradictories  could  be 
used  interchangeably.  The  Unlimited  might  be  thought  of  as 
antithetical  to  the  Divisible,  and  the  Indivisible  as  antithetical 
to  the  Limited ; while  the  fact  that  they  cannot  be  so  used 
proves  that  in  consciousness  the  Unlimited  and  the  Indivisible 
are  qualitatively  distinct  and  therefore  positive  or  real ; since 
distinction  cannot  exist  between  nothings.  The  error  (very 
naturally  fallen  into  by  philosophers  intent  on  demonstrating 
the  limits  and  conditions  of  consciousness)  consists  in  assuming 
that  consciousness  contains  nothing  hut  limits  and  conditions, 
to  the  entire  neglect  of  that  which  is  limited  and  conditioned. 
It  is  forgotten  that  there  is  something  which  alike  forms  the 
raw  material  of  definite  thought  and  remains  after  the  definite- 
ness which  thinking  gave  to  it  has  been  destroyed.  How  all  this 
applies  by  change  of  terms  to  the  last  and  highest  of  these 
antinomies  — that  between  the  Relative  and  the  Non-relative. 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


77 


We  are  conscious  of  the  Eelative  as  existence  under  conditions 
and  limits ; it  is  impossible  that  these  conditions  and 
limits  can  be  thought  of  apart  from  something  to  which 
they  give  the  form;  the  abstraction  of  these  conditions  and 
limits  is,  by  the  hypothesis,  the  abstraction  of  them  only ; con- 
sequently there  must  be  a residuary  consciousness  of  something 
which  filled  up  their  outlines,  and  this  indefinite  something 
constitutes  our  consciousness  of  the  Non-relative  or  Absolute. 
Impossible  though  it  is  to  give  to  this  consciousness  any 
qualitative  or  quantitative  expression  whatever,  it  is  not  the 
less  certain  that  it  remains  with  us  as  a positive  and  inde- 
structible element  of  thought. 

Still  more  manifest  will  this  truth  become  when  it  is  observed 
that  our  conception  of  the  Eelative  itself  disappears  if  our 
conception  of  the  Absolute  is  a pure  negation.  It  is  admitted, 
or  rather  it  is  contended,  by  the  writers  I have  quoted  above, 
that  contradictories  can  be  known  only  in  relation  to  each  other ; 
that  Equality,  for  instance,  is  unthinkable  apart  from  its  cor- 
relative Inequality;  and  that  thus  the  Eelative  can  itself  be 
conceived  only  by  opposition  to  the  Non-relative.  It  is  also 
admitted,  or  rather  contended,  that  the  consciousness  of  a 
relation  implies  a consciousness  of  both  the  related  members. 
If  we  are  required  to  conceive  the  relation  between  the  Eelative 
and  Non-relative  without  being  conscious  of  both,  “ we  are 
in  fact”  (to  quote  the  words  of  Mr.  Mansel  differently  applied) 
“ required  to  compare  that  of  which  we  are  conscious  with  that 
of  which  we  are  not  conscious ; the  comparison  itself  being  an  act 
of  consciousness,  and  only  possible  through  the  consciousness  of 
both  its  objects.”  What  then  becomes  of  the  assertion  that 
“ the  Absolute  is  conceived  merely  by  a negation  of  conceiva- 
bility,”  or  as  “the  mere  absence  of  the  conditions  under  which 
consciousness  is  possible  ” ? If  the  Non-relative  or  Absolute  is 
present  in  thought  only  as  a mere  negation,  then  the  relation 
between  it  and  the  Eelative  becomes  unthinkable,  because  one 
of  the  terms  of  the  relation  is  absent  from  consciousness.  And 
if  this  relation  is  unthinkable,  then  is  the  Eelative  itself  un- 
thinkable for  want  of  its  antithesis;  whence  results  the  disap- 
pearance of  all  thought  whatever. 

Let  me  here  point  out  that  both  Sir  William  Hamilton  and 
Mr.  Mansel  do,  in  other  places,  distinctly  imply  that  our  con- 


7S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


sciousness  of  the  Absolute,  indefinite  though  it  is,  is  positive  and 
not  negative.  The  very  passage  already  quoted  from  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  in  which  he  asserts  that  “ the  absolute  is  conceived 
merely  by  a negation  of  conceivability,”  itself  ends  with  the 
remark  that  “ by  a wonderful  revelation,  we  are  thus,  in  the 
very  consciousness  of  our  inability  to  conceive  aught  above  the 
relative  and  finite,  inspired  with  a belief  in  the  existence  of 
something  unconditioned  beyond  the  sphere  of  all  compre- 
hensible reality.”  The  last  of  these  assertions  practically  admits 
that  which  the  other  denied.  By  the  laws  of  thought,  as  Sir 
William  Hamilton  has  interpreted  them,  he  finds  himself  forced 
to  the  conclusion  that  our  consciousness  of  the  Absolute  is  a 
pure  negation.  He  nevertheless  finds  that  there  does  exist  in 
consciousness  an  irresistible  conviction  of  the  real  “ existence 
of  something  unconditioned.”  And  he  gets  over  the  incon- 
sistency by  speaking  of  this  conviction  as  “ a wonderful  revela- 
tion ” — “ a belief  ” with  which  we  are  “ inspired  ” ; thus 
apparently  hinting  that  it  is  supernaturally  at  variance  with  the 
laws  of  thought.  Mr.  Mansel  is  betrayed  into  a like  incon- 
sistency. When  he  says  that  “ we  are  compelled  by  the  consti- 
tution of  our  minds  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  an  Absolute 
and  Infinite  Being  — a belief  which  appears  forced  upon  ns  as 
the  complement  of  our  consciousness  of  the  relative  and  the 
finite,”  he  clearly  says  by  implication  that  this  consciousness 
is  positive  and  not  negative.  He  tacitly  admits  that  we  are 
obliged  to  regard  the  Absolute  as  something  more  than  a nega- 
tion — that  our  consciousness  of  it  is  not  “ the  mere  absence 
of  the  conditions  under  which  consciousness  is  possible.” 

The  supreme  importance  of  this  question  must  be  my  apology 
for  taxing  the  reader’s  attention  a little  further,  in  the  hope  of 
clearing  up  the  remaining  difficulties.  The  necessarily  positive 
character  of  our  consciousness  of  the  Unconditioned,  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  follows  from  an  ultimate  law  of  thought,  will  be 
better  understood  on  contemplating  the  process  of  thought. 

One  of  the  arguments  used  to  prove  the  relativity  of  our  know- 
ledge is  that  we  cannot  conceive  Space  or  Time  as  either  limited 
or  unlimited.  It  is  pointed  out  that  when  we  imagine  a limit 
there  simultaneously  arises  the  consciousness  of  a space  or  time 
existing  beyond  the  limit.  This  remoter  space  or  time,  though 
not  contemplated  as  definite,  is  yet  contemplated  as  real.  Though 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


79 


we  do  not  form  of  it  a conception  proper,  since  we  do  not  bring 
it  within  bounds,  there  is  yet  in  our  minds  the  unshaped  material 
of  a conception.  Similarly  with  our  consciousness  of  Cause. 
We  are  no  more  able  to  form  a circumscribed  idea  of  Cause  than 
of  Space  or  Time;  and  we  are  consequently  obliged  to  think  of 
the  Cause  which  transcends  the  limits  of  our  thought  as  positive 
though  indefinite.  Just  in  the  same  manner  that  on  con- 
ceiving any  bounded  space  there  arises  a nascent  consciousness 
of  space  outside  the  bounds,  so  when  we  think  of  any  definite 
cause  there  arises  a nascent  consciousness  of  a cause  behind  it; 
and  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other,  this  nascent  consciousness 
is  in  substance  like  that  which  suggests  it,  though  without  form. 
The  momentum  of  thought  inevitably  carries  us  beyond  con- 
ditioned existence  to  unconditioned  existence;  and  this  ever 
persists  in  us  as  the  body  of  a thought  to  which  we  can  give  no 
shape.  Hence  our  firm  belief  in  objective  reality  — a belief 
which  metaphysical  criticisms  cannot  for  a moment  shake. 
When  we  are  taught  that  a piece  of  matter  regarded  by  us  as  ex- 
isting externally  cannot  be  really  known,  but  that  we  can  know 
only  certain  impressions  produced  on  us,  we  are  yet,  by  the 
relativity  of  our  thought,  compelled  to  think  of  these  in  relation 
to  a positive  cause  — the  notion  of  a real  existence  which  gen- 
erated these  impressions  becomes  nascent.  If  it  be  proved  to 
us  that  every  notion  of  a real  existence  which  we  can  frame  is 
utterly  inconsistent  with  itself  — that  matter,  however  conceived 
by  us,  cannot  be  matter  as  it  actually  is,  our  conception,  though 
transfigured,  is  not  destroyed.  There  remains  the  sense  of 
reality,  dissociated  as  far  as  possible  from  those  special  forms 
under  which  it  was  before  represented  in  thought.  Though 
Philosophy  condemns  successively  each  attempted  conception  of 
the  Absolute  — though  it  proves  to  us  that  the  Absolute  is  not 
this,  nor  that,  nor  that  — though  in  obedience  to  it  we  negative, 
one  after  another,  each  idea  as  it  arises ; yet,  as  we  cannot  expel 
the  entire  contents  of  consciousness,  there  ever  remains  behind 
an  element  which  passes  into  new  shapes.  The  continual  nega- 
tion of  each  particular  form  and  limit  simply  results  in  the  more 
or  less  complete  abstraction  of  all  forms  and  limits,  and  so  ends 
in  an  indefinite  consciousness  of  the  unformed  and  unlimited. 

And  here  we  come  face  to  face  with  the  ultimate  difficulty: 
How  can  there  possibly  be  constituted  a consciousness  of  the 


so 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


unformed  and  unlimited,  when,  by  its  very  nature,  consciousness 
is  possible  only  under  forms  and  limits?  If  every  consciousness 
of  existence  is  a consciousness  of  existence  as  conditioned,  then 
how,  after  the  negation  of  conditions,  can  there  be  any  residuum  ? 
Though  not  directly  withdrawn  by  the  withdrawal  of  its  con- 
ditions, must  not  the  raw  material  of  consciousness  be  with- 
drawn b}f  implication  ? Must  it  not  vanish  when  the  conditions 
of  its  existence  vanish?  That  there  must  be  a solution  of  this 
difficulty  is  manifest;  since  even  those  who  would  put  it,  do,  as 
already  shown,  admit  that  we  have  some  such  consciousness; 
and  the  solution  appears  to  be  that  above  shadowed  forth.  Such 
consciousness  is  not,  and  cannot  be,  constituted  by  any  single 
mental  act,  but  is  the  product  of  many  mental  acts.  In  each 
concept  there  is  an  element  which  persists.  It  is  alike  im- 
possible for  this  element  to  be  absent  from  consciousness  and  for 
it  to  be  present  in  consciousness  alone.  Either  alternative  in- 
volves unconsciousness  — the  one  from  the  want  of  the  sub- 
stance, the  other  from  the  want  of  the  form.  But  the  persist- 
ence of  this  element  under  successive  conditions  necessitates  a 
sense  of  it  as  distinguished  from  the  conditions  and  independent 
of  them.  The  sense  of  a something  that  is  conditioned  in  every 
thought  cannot  be  got  rid  of,  because  the  something  cannot  be 
got  rid  of.  How  then  must  the  sense  of  this  something  be  con- 
stituted? Evidently  by  combining  successive  concepts  deprived 
of  their  limits  and  conditions.  W e form  this  indefinite  thought 
as  we  form  many  of  our  definite  thoughts,  by  the  coalescence  of 
a series  of  thoughts.  Let  me  illustrate  this.  A large  complex 
object,  having  attributes  too  numerous  to  be  represented  at 
once,  is  yet  tolerably  well  conceived  by  the  union  of  several  repre- 
sentations, each  standing  for  part  of  its  attributes.  On  thinking 
of  a piano  there  first  rises  in  imagination  its  visual  appearance, 
to  which  are  instantly  added  (though  by  separate  mental  acts) 
the  ideas  of  its  remote  side  and  of  its  solid  substance.  A com- 
plete conception,  however,  involves  the  strings,  the  hammers, 
the  dampers,  the  pedals ; and  while  successively  adding  these  to 
the  conception,  the  attributes  first  thought  of  lapse  more  or  less 
completely  out  of  consciousness.  Nevertheless,  the  whole  group 
constitutes  a representation  of  the  piano.  Now  as  in  this  case 
we  form  a definite  concept  of  a special  existence,  by  imposing 
limits  and  conditions  in  successive  acts;  so,  in  the  converse  case. 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 


81 


by  taking  away  the  limits  and  conditions  in  successive  acts,  we 
form  an  indefinite  notion  of  general  existence.  By  fusing  a 
series  of  states  of  consciousness,  in  each  of  which,  as  it  arises, 
the  limitations  and  conditions  are  abolished,  there  is  produced 
a consciousness  of  something  unconditioned.  To  speak  more 
rigorously : this  consciousness  is  not  the  abstract  of  any  one 
group  of  thoughts,  ideas,  or  conceptions;  but  it  is  the  abstract 
of  all  thoughts,  ideas,  or  conceptions.  That  which  is  common 
to  them  all,  and  cannot  be  got  rid  of,  is  what  we  predicate  by  the 
word  existence.  Dissociated  as  this  becomes  from  each  of  its 
modes  hy  the  perpetual  change  of  those  modes,  it  remains  as  an 
indefinite  consciousness  of  something  constant  under  all  modes 
— of  being  apart  from  its  appearances.  The  distinction  we  feel 
between  special  and  general  existence,  is  the  distinction  between 
that  which  is  changeable  in  us,  and  that  which  is  unchangeable. 
The  contrast  between  the  Absolute  and  the  Relative  in  our 
minds,  is  really  the  contrast  between  that  mental  element  which 
exists  absolutely,  and  those  which  exist  relatively. 

By  its  very  nature,  therefore,  this  ultimate  mental  element 
is  at  once  necessarily  indefinite  and  necessarily  indestructible. 
Our  .consciousness  of  the  unconditioned  being  literally  the  un- 
conditioned consciousness,  or  raw  material  of  thought  to  which 
in  thinking  we  give  definite  forms,  it  follows  that  an  ever- 
present sense  of  real  existence  is  the  very  basis  of  our  intelli- 
gence. As  we  can  in  successive  mental  acts  get  rid  of  all  particu- 
lar conditions  and  replace  them  by  others,  but  cannot  get  rid  of 
that  undifferentiated  substance  of  consciousness  which  is  con- 
ditioned anew  in  every  thought;  there  ever  remains  with  us  a 
sense  of  that  which  exists  persistently  and  independently  of 
conditions.  At  the  same  time  that  by  the  laws  of  thought  we 
are  rigorously  prevented  from  forming  a conception  of  absolute 
existence,  we  are  by  the  laws  of  thought  equally  prevented  from 
ridding  ourselves  of  the  consciousness  of  absolute  existence;  this 
consciousness  being,  as  we  here  see,  the  obverse  of  our  self- 
consciousness.  And  since  the  only  possible  measure  of  relative 
validity  among  our  beliefs,  is  the  degree  of  their  persistence  in 
opposition  to  the  efforts  made  to  change  them,  it  follows  that 
this  which  persists  at  all  times,  under  all  circumstances,  and 
cannot  cease  until  consciousness  ceases,  has  the  highest  validity 
of  any. 


S2 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


To  sum  up  this  somewhat  too  elaborate  argument:  We  have 

seen  how  in  the  very  assertion  that  all  our  knowledge,  properly 
so  called,  is  Relative,  there  is  involved  the  assertion  that  there 
exists  a Non-relative.  We  have  seen  how,  in  each  step  of  the 
argument  b}r  which  this  doctrine  is  established,  the  same  as- 
sumption is  made.  We  have  seen  how,  from  the  very  necessity 
of  thinking  in  relations,  it  follows  that  the  Relative  is  itself 
inconceivable,  except  as  related  to  a real  Non-relative.  We  have 
seen  that  unless  a real  Non-relative  or  Absolute  be  postulated,  the 
Relative  itself  becomes  absolute;  and  so  brings  the  argument  to 
a contradiction.  And  on  contemplating  the  process  of  thought, 
we  have  equally  seen  how  impossible  it  is  to  get  rid  of  the  con- 
sciousness of  an  actuality  lying  behind  appearances;  and  how, 
from  this  impossibility,  results  our  indestructible  belief  in  that 
actuality. 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


83 


CHAPTER  Y. 

THE  RECONCILIATION. 

§ 27.  Thus  do  all  lines  of  argument  converge  to  the  same 
conclusion.  The  inference  reached  a priori , in  the  last  chapter, 
confirms  the  inferences  which,  in  the  two  preceding  chapters, 
were  reached  a posteriori.  Those  imbecilities  of  the  understand- 
ing that  disclose  themselves  when  we  try  to  answer  the  highest 
questions  of  objective  science,  subjective  science  proves  to  be 
necessitated  by  the  laws  of  that  understanding.  We  not  only 
learn  by  the  frustration  of  all  our  efforts,  that  the  reality  under- 
lying appearances  is  totally  and  forever  inconceivable  by  us,  but 
we  also  learn  why,  from  the  very  nature  of  our  intelligence,  it 
must  be  so.  Finally  we  discover  that  this  conclusion,  which, 
in  its  unqualified  form,  seems  opposed  to  the  instinctive  con- 
victions of  mankind,  falls  into  harmony  with  them  when  the 
missing  qualification  is  supplied.  Though  the  Absolute  cannot 
in  any  manner  or  degree  be  known,  in  the  strict  sense  of  know- 
ing, yet  we  find  that  its  positive  existence  is  a necessary  datum 
of  consciousness;  that,  so  long  as  consciousness  continues,  we 
cannot  for  an  instant  rid  it  of  this  datum;  and  that  thus  the 
belief  which  this  datum  constitutes  has  a higher  warrant  than 
any  other  whatever. 

Here  then  is  that  basis  of  agreement  we  set  out  to  seek.  This 
conclusion  which  objective  science  illustrates,  and  subjective 
science  shows  to  be  unavoidable  — this  conclusion  which,  while 
it  in  the  main  expresses  the  doctrine  of  the  English  school  of 
philosophy,  recognizes  also  a soul  of  truth  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
antagonist  German  school  — this  conclusion  which  brings  the 
results  of  speculation  into  harmony  with  those  of  common  sense, 
is  also  the  conclusion  which  reconciles  Religion  with  Science. 
Common  Sense  asserts  the  existence  of  a reality;  Objective 
Science  proves  that  this  reality  cannot  be  what  we  think  it ; Sub- 
jective Science  shows  why  we  cannot  think  of  it  as  it  is,  and 


84 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


yet  are  compelled  to  think  of  it  as  existing;  and  in  this  asser- 
tion of  a Reality  utterly  inscrutable  in  nature.  Religion  finds  an 
assertion  essentially  coinciding  with  her  own.  We  are  obliged 
to  regard  every  phenomenon  as  a manifestation  of  some  Power 
by  which  we  are  acted  upon;  though  Omnipresence  is  unthink- 
able, yet,  as  experience  discloses  no  bounds  to  the  diffusion  of 
phenomena,  we  are  unable  to  think  of  limits  to  the  presence  of 
this  Power;  while  the  criticisms  of  Science  teach  us  that  this 
Power  is  incomprehensible.  And  this  consciousness  of  an  In- 
comprehensible Power,  called  Omnipresent  from  inability  to 
assign  its  limits,  is  just  that  consciousness  on  which  Religion 
dwells. 

To  understand  fully  how  real  is  the  reconciliation  thus  reached, 
it  will  be  needful  to  look  at  the  respective  attitudes  that  Re- 
ligion and  Science  have  all  along  maintained  toward  this  con- 
clusion. We  must  observe  how,  all  along,  the  imperfections  of 
each  have  been  undergoing  correction  by  the  other;  and  how 
the  final  outcome  of  their  mutual  criticisms  can  be  nothing  else 
than  an  entire  agreement  on  this  deepest  and  widest  of  all 
truths. 

§ 28.  In  Religion  let  us  recognize  the  high  merit  that  from 
the  beginning  it  has  dimly  discerned  the  ultimate  verity,  and  has 
never  ceased  to  insist  upon  it.  In  its  earliest  and  crudest  forms 
it  manifested,  however  vaguely  and  inconsistently,  an  intuition 
forming  the  germ  of  this  highest  belief  in  which  all  philosophies 
finally  unite.  The  consciousness  of  a mystery  is  traceable  in 
the  rudest  fetichism.  Each  higher  religious  creed,  rejecting 
those  definite  and  simple  interpretations  of  Nature  previously 
given,  has  become  more  religious  by  doing  this.  As  the  quite 
concrete  and  conceivable  agencies  alleged  as  the  causes  of  things 
have  been  replaced  by  agencies  less  concrete  and  conceivable, 
the  element  of  mystery  has  of  necessity  become  more  predomi- 
nant. Through  all  its  successive  phases  the  disappearance  of 
those  positive  dogmas  by  which  the  mystery  was  made  unmyster- 
ious,  has  formed  the  essential  change  delineated  in  religious  his- 
tory. And  so  Religion  has  ever  been  approximating  toward  that 
complete  recognition  of  this  mystery  which  is  its  goal. 

For  its  essentially  valid  belief,  Religion  has  constantly  done 
battle.  Gross  as  were  the  disguises  under  which  it  first  espoused 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


85 


this  belief,  and  cherishing  this  belief  though  it  still  is,  under 
disfiguring  vestments,  it  has  never  ceased  to  maintain  and  defend 
it.  It  has  everywhere  established  and  propagated  one  or  other 
modification  of  the  doctrine  that  all  things  are  manifestations  of 
a Power  that  transcends  our  knowledge.  Though  from  age  to 
age,  Science  has  continually  defeated  it  wherever  they  have  come 
in  collision,  and  has  obliged  it  to  relinquish  one  or  more  of  its 
positions,  it  has  still  held  the  remaining  ones  with  undiminished 
tenacity.  No  exposure  of  the  logical  inconsistency  of  its  con- 
clusions — no  proof  that  each  of  its  particular  dogmas  was 
absurd,  has  been  able  to  weaken  its  allegiance  to  that  ultimate 
verity  for  which  it  stands.  After  criticism  has  abolished  all  its 
arguments  and  reduced  it  to  silence,  there  has  still  remained  with 
it  the  indestructible  consciousness  of  a truth  which,  however 
faulty  the  mode  in  which  it  had  been  expressed,  was  yet  a truth 
beyond  cavil.  To  this  conviction  its  adherence  has  been  sub- 
stantially sincere.  And  for  the  guardianship  and  diffusion  of  it, 
Humanity  has  ever  been,  and  must  ever  be,  its  debtor. 

But  while,  from  the  beginning,  Eeligion  has  had  the  all- 
essential office  of  preventing  men  from  being  wholly  absorbed 
in  the  relative  or  immediate,  and  of  awakening  them  to  a con- 
sciousness of  something  beyond  it,  this  office  has  been  but  very 
imperfectly  discharged.  Eeligion  has  ever  been  more  or  less 
irreligious ; and  it  continues  to  be  partially  irreligious  even  now. 
In  the  first  place,  as  implied  above,  it  has  all  along  professed  to 
have  some  knowledge  of  that  which  transcends  knowledge;  and 
has  so  contradicted  its  own  teachings.  While  with  one  breath 
it  has  asserted  that  the  Cause  of  all  things  passes  understanding, 
it  has,  with  the  next  breath,  asserted  that  the  Cause  of  all  things 
possesses  such  or  such  attributes  — can  be  in  so  far  understood. 
In  the  second  place,  while  in  great  part  sincere  in  its  fealty  to 
the  great  truth  it  has  had  to  uphold,  it  has  often  been  insincere, 
and  consequently  irreligious,  in  maintaining  the  untenable  doc- 
trines by  which  it  has  obscured  this  great  truth.  Each  assertion 
respecting  the  nature,  acts,  or  motives  of  that  Power  which  the 
Universe  manifests  to  us,  has  been  repeatedly  called  in  ques- 
tion, and  proved  to  be  inconsistent  with  itself,  or  with  accom- 
panying assertions.  Yet  each  of  them  has  been  age  after  age 
insisted  on,  in  spite  of  a secret  consciousness  that  it  would  not 
bear  examination.  Just  as  though  unaware  that  its  central  posi- 


S6 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


tion  was  impregnable,  Eeligion  lias  obstinately  held  every  outpost 
long  after  it  was  obviously  indefensible.  And  this  naturally 
introduces  us  to  the  third  and  most  serious  form  of  irreligion 
which  Eeligion  has  displayed;  namely,  an  imperfect  belief  in 
that  which  it  especially  professes  to  believe.  How  truly  its 
central  position  is  impregnable,  Eeligion  has  never  adequately 
realized.  In  the  devoutest  faith,  as  we  habitually  see  it,  there 
lies  hidden  an  innermost  core  of  scepticism;  and  it  is  this  scep- 
ticism which  causes  that  dread  of  inquiry  displayed  by  Eeligion 
when  face  to  face  with  Science.  Obliged  to  abandon  one  by  one 
the  superstitions  it  once  tenaciously  held,  and  daily  finding  its 
cherished  beliefs  more  and  more  shaken,  Eeligion  shows  a secret 
fear  that  all  things  may  some  day  be  explained;  and  this  itself 
betrays  a lurking  doubt  whether  that  Incomprehensible  Cause 
of  which  it  is  conscious  is  really  incomprehensible. 

Of  Eeligion,  then,  we  must  always  remember,  that  amid  its 
many  errors  and  corruptions  it  has  asserted  and  diffused  a su- 
preme verity.  From  the  first,  the  recognition  of  this  supreme 
verity,  in  however  imperfect  a manner,  has  been  its  vital  ele- 
ment; and  its  various  defects,  once  extreme  but  gradually  di- 
minishing, have  been  so  many  failures  to  recognize  in  full  that 
which  it  recognized  in  part.  The  truly  religious  element  of 
Eeligion  has  always  been  good ; that  which  has  proved  untenable 
in  doctrine  and  vicious  in  practice  has  been  its  irreligious  ele- 
ment; and  from  this  it  has  been  ever  undergoing  purification. 

§ 29.  And  now  observe  that,  all  along,  the  agent  which  has 
effected  the  purification  has  been  Science.  We  habitually  over- 
look the  fact  that  this  has  been  one  of  its  functions.  Eeligion 
ignores  its  immense  debt  to  Science ; and  Science  is  scarcely  at 
all  conscious  how  much  Eeligion  owes  it.  Yet  it  is  demonstrable 
that  every  step  by  which  Eeligion  has  progressed  from  its  first 
low  conception  to  the  comparatively  high  one  it  has  now 
reached,  Science  has  helped  it,  or  rather  forced  it,  to  take;  and 
that  even  now.  Science  is  urging  further  steps  in  the  same  di- 
rection. 

Using  the  word  Science  in  its  true  sense,  as  comprehending  all 
positive  and  definite  knowledge  of  the  order  existing  among 
surrounding  phenomena,  it  becomes  manifest  that,  from  the 
outset,  the  discovery  of  an  established  order  has  modified  that 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


87 


conception  of  disorder,  or  undetermined  order,  which  under- 
lies every  superstition.  As  fast  as  experience  proves  that  certain 
familiar  changes  always  happen  in  the  same  sequence,  there  be- 
gins to  fade  from  the  mind  the  conception  of  a special  per- 
sonality to  whose  variable  will  they  were  before  ascribed.  And 
when,  step  by  step,  accumulating  observations  do  the  like  with 
the  less  familiar  changes,  a similar  modification  of  belief  takes 
place  with  respect  to  them. 

While  this  process  seems  to  those  who  effect,  and  those  who 
undergo  it,  an  anti-religions  one,  it  is  really  the  reverse.  Instead 
of  the  specific  comprehensible  agency  before  assigned,  there  is 
substituted  a less  specific  and  less  comprehensible  agency;  and 
though  this,  standing  in  opposition  to  the  previous  one,  cannot 
at  first  call  forth  the  same  feeling,  yet,  as  being  less  comprehen- 
sible, it  must  eventually  call  forth  this  feeling  more  fully.  Take 
an  instance.  Of  old  the  Sun  was  regarded  as  the  chariot  of  a 
god,  drawn  by  horses.  How  far  the  idea  thus  grossly  expressed 
was  idealized  we  need  not  inquire.  It  suffices  to  remark  that 
this  accounting  for  the  apparent  motion  of  the  Sun  by  an 
agency  like  certain  visible  terrestrial  agencies,  reduced  a daily 
wonder  to  the  level  of  the  commonest  intellect.  When,  many 
centuries  after,  Kepler  discovered  that  the  planets  moved  round 
the  Sun  in  ellipses  and  described  equal  areas  in  equal  times,  he 
concluded  that  in  each  planet  there  must  exist  a spirit  to  guide 
its  movements.  Here  we  see  that,  with  the  progress  of  Science, 
there  had  disappeared  the  idea  of  a gross  mechanical  traction, 
such  as  was  first  assigned  in  the  case  of  the  Sun ; but  that  while 
for  this  there  was  substituted  an  indefinite  and  less-easily  con- 
ceivable force,  it  was  still  thought  needful  to  assume  a special 
personal  agent  as  a cause  of  the  regular  irregularity  of  motion. 
When,  finally,  it  was  proved  that  these  planetary  revolutions, 
with  all  their  variations  and  disturbances,  conformed  to  one  uni- 
versal law- — -when  the  presiding  spirits  which  Kepler  con- 
ceived were  set  aside,  and  the  force  of  gravitation  put  in  their 
place  — the  change  was  really  the  abolition  of  an  imaginable 
agency,  and  the  substitution  of  an  unimaginable  one.  For 
though  the  laiv  of  gravitation  is  within  our  mental  grasp,  it  is 
impossible  to  realize  in  thought  the  force  of  gravitation.  New- 
ton himself  confessed  the  force  of  gravitation  to  be  incomprehen- 
sible without  the  intermediation  of  an  ether ; and,  as  we  have  al- 


ss 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ready  seen  (§  18),  the  assumption  of  an  ether  does  not  in  the 
least  help.  us.  Thus  it  is  with  Science  in  general.  Its  progress 
in  grouping  particular  relations  of  phenomena  under  laws,  and 
these  special  laws  under  laws  more  and  more  general,  is  of  neces- 
sity a progress  to  causes  that  are  more  and  more  abstract.  And 
causes  more  and  more  abstract  are  of  necessity  causes  less  and 
less  conceivable;  since  the  formation  of  an  abstract  conception 
involves  the  dropping  of  certain  concrete  elements  of  thought. 
Hence  the  most  abstract  conception,  to  which  Science  is  ever 
slowly  approaching,  is  one  that  merges  into  the  inconceivable  or 
unthinkable,  by  the  dropping  of  all  concrete  elements  of  thought. 
And  so  is  justified  the  assertion,  that  the  beliefs  which  Science 
has  forced  upon  Religion  have  been  intrinsically  more  religious 
than  those  which  they  supplanted. 

Science,  however,  like  Religion,  has  but  very  incompletely 
fulfilled  its  office.  As  Religion  has  fallen  short  of  its  function 
in  so  far  as  it  has  been  irreligious,  so  has  Science  fallen  short  of 
its  function  in  so  far  as  it  has  been  unscientific.  Let  us  note  the 
several  parallelisms.  In  its  earlier  stages,  Science,  while  it  be- 
gan to  teach  the  constant  relations  of  phenomena,  and  so  dis- 
credited the  belief  in  separate  personalities  as  the  causes  of  them, 
itself  substituted  the  belief  in  causal  agencies  which,  if  not 
personal,  were  yet  concrete.  When  certain  facts  were  said  to 
show  “ Nature’s  abhorrence  of  a vacuum,”  when  the  properties 
of  gold  were  explained  as  due  to  some  entity  called  “ aureity,” 
and  when  the  phenomena  of  life  were  attributed  to  “ a vital 
principle,”  there  was  set  up  a mode  of  interpreting  the  facts, 
which,  while  antagonistic  to  the  religious  mode,  because  assign- 
ing other  agencies,  was  also  unscientific,  because  it  professed  to 
know  that  about  which  nothing  was  known.  Having  abandoned 
these  metaphysical  agencies  — having  seen  that  they  were  not 
independent  existences,  but  merely  special  combinations  of  gen- 
eral causes,  Science  has  more  recently  ascribed  extensive  groups 
of  phenomena  to  electricity,  chemical  affinity,  and  other  like 
general  powers.  But  in  speaking  of  these  as  ultimate  and  inde- 
pendent entities.  Science  has  preserved  substantially  the  same 
attitude  as  before.  Accounting  thus  for  all  phenomena,  those  of 
Life  and  Thought  included,  it  has  not  only  maintained  its  seem- 
ing antagonism  to  Religion,  by  alleging  agencies  of  a radically 
unlike  kind ; but,  in  so  far  as  it  has  tacitly  assumed  a knowledge 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


89 


of  these  agencies,  it  has  continued  unscientific.  At  the  present 
time,  however,  the  most  advanced  men  of  science  are  abandoning 
these  later  conceptions,  as  their  predecessors  abandoned  the 
earlier  ones.  Magnetism,  heat,  light,  etc.,  which  were  a while 
since  spoken  of  as  so  many  distinct  imponderables,  physicists  are 
now  beginning  to  regard  as  different  inodes  of  manifestation  of 
some  one  universal  force;  and  in  so  doing  are  ceasing  to  think 
of  this  force  as  comprehensible.  In  each  phase  of  its  progress. 
Science  has  thus  stopped  short  with  superficial  solutions  — has 
unscientifically  neglected  to  ask  what  was  the  nature  of  the 
agents  it  so  familiarly  invoked.  Though  in  each  succeeding 
phase  it  has  gone  a little  deeper,  and  merged  its  supposed  agents 
in  more  general  and  abstract  ones,  it  has  still,  as  before,  rested 
content  with  these  as  if  they  were  ascertained  realities.  And 
this,  which  has  all  along  been  the  unscientific  characteristic  of 
Science,  has  all  along  been  a part  cause  of  its  conflict  with 
Religion. 

§ 30.  We  see  then  that,  from  the  first,  the  faults  of  both  Re- 
ligion and  Science  have  been  the  faults  of  imperfect  development. 
Originally  a mere  rudiment,  each  has  been  growing  into  a more 
complete  form ; the  vice  of  each  has  in  all  times  been  its  incom- 
pleteness ; the  disagreements  between  them  have  throughout  been 
nothing  more  than  the  consequences  of  their  incompleteness ; and 
as  they  reach  their  final  forms,  they  come  into  entire  harmony. 

The  progress  of  intelligence  has  throughout  been  dual. 
Though  it  has  not  seemed  so  to  those  who  made  it,  every  step 
in  advance  has  been  a step  toward  both  the  natural  and  the 
supernatural.  The  better  interpretation  of  each  phenomenon 
has  been,  on  the  one  hand,  the  rejection  of  a cause  that  was 
relatively  conceivable  in  its  nature  but  unknown  in  the  order  of 
its  actions,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  adoption  of  a cause  that 
was  known  in  the  order  of  its  actions  but  relatively  inconceivable 
in  its  nature.  The  first  advance  out  of  universal  fetichism  mani- 
festly involved  the  conception  of  agencies  less  assimilable  to  the 
familiar  agencies  of  men  and  animals,  and  therefore  less  under- 
stood ; while,  at  the  same  time,  such  newly-conceived  agencies,  in 
so  far  as  they  were  distinguished  by  their  uniform  effects,  were 
better  understood  than  those  they  replaced.  All  subsequent  ad- 
vances display  the  same  double  result.  Every  deeper  and  more 


90 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


general  power  arrived  at  as  a cause  of  phenomena  has  been  at 
once  less  comprehensible  than  the  special  ones  it  superseded,  in 
the  sense  of  being  less  definitely  representable  in  thought;  while 
it  has  been  more  comprehensible  in  the  sense  that  its  actions  have 
been  more  completely  predicable.  The  progress  has  thus  been 
as  much  toward  the  establishment  of  a positively  unknown  as 
toward  the  establishment  of  a positively  known.  Though  as 
knowledge  approaches  its  culmination,  every  unaccountable  and 
seemingly  supernatural  fact  is  brought  into  the  category  of  facts 
that  are  accountable  or  natural ; yet,  at  the  same  time,  all  account- 
able or  natural  facts  are  proved  to  be  in  their  ultimate  genesis 
unaccountable  and  supernatural.  And  so  there  arise  two  an- 
tithetical states  cf  mind,  answering  to  the  opposite  sides  of  that 
existence  about  which  we  think.  While  our  consciousness  of 
Nature  under  the  one  aspect  constitutes  Science,  our  conscious- 
ness of  it  under  the  other  aspect  constitutes  Religion. 

Otherwise  contemplating  the  facts,  we  may  say  that  Religion 
and  Science  have  been  undergoing  a slow  differentiation ; and  that 
their  ceaseless  conflicts  have  been  due  to  the  imperfect  separation 
of  their  spheres  and  functions.  Religion  has,  from  the  first, 
struggled  to  unite  more  or  less  science  with  its  nescience ; Science 
has,  from  the  first,  kept  hold  of  more  or  less  nescience  as  though 
it  were  a part  of  science.  Each  has  been  obliged  gradually  to 
relinquish  that  territory  which  it  wrongly  claimed,  while  it  has 
gained  from  the  other  that  to  which  it  had  a right;  and  the 
antagonism  between  them  has  been  an  inevitable  accompaniment 
of  this  process.  A more  specific  statement  will  make  this  clear. 
Religion,  though  at  the  outset  it  asserted  a mystery,  also  made 
numerous  definite  assertions  respecting  this  mystery  — professed 
to  know  its  nature  in  the  minutest  detail,  and  in  so  far  as  it 
claimed  positive  knowledge,  it  trespassed  upon  the  province  of 
Science.  From  the  times  of  early  mythologies,  when  such  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  the  mystery  was  alleged,  down  to  our 
own  days,  when  but  a few  abstract  and  vague  propositions  are 
maintained,  Religion  has  been  compelled  by  Science  to  give  up 
one  after  another  of  its  dogmas  — of  those  assumed  cognitions 
which  it  could  not  substantiate.  In  the  meantime.  Science  sub- 
stituted for  the  personalities  to  which  Religion  ascribed  phe- 
nomena, certain  metaphysical  entities ; and  in  doing  this  it  tres- 
passed on  the  province  of  Religion;  since  it  classed  among  the 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


91 


things  which  it  comprehended  certain  forms  of  the  incompre- 
hensible. Partly  by  the  criticisms  of  Religion,  which  lias  occa- 
sionally called  in  question  its  assumptions,  and  partly  as  a 
consequence  of  spontaneous  growth.  Science  has  been  obliged  to 
abandon  these  attempts  to  include  within  the  boundaries  of 
knowledge  that  which  cannot  be  known;  and  has  so  yielded  up 
to  Religion  that  which  of  right  belonged  to  it.  So  long  as  this 
process  of  differentiation  is  incomplete,  more  or  less  of  antagon- 
ism must  continue.  Gradually  as  the  limits  of  possible  cognition 
are  established,  the  causes  of  conflict  will  diminish.  And  a per- 
manent peace  will  be  reached  when  Science  becomes  fully  con- 
vinced that  its  explanations  are  proximate  and  relative;  while 
Religion  becomes  fully  convinced  that  the  mystery  it  contem- 
plates is  ultimate  and  absolute. 

Religion  and  Science  are  therefore  necessary  correlatives.  As 
already  hinted,  they  stand  respectively  for  those  two  antithetical 
modes  of  consciousness  which  cannot  exist  asunder.  A known 
cannot  be  thought  of  apart  from  an  unknown;  nor  can  an  un- 
known be  thought  of  apart  from  a known.  And  by  conse- 
quence, neither  can  become  more  distinct  without  giving  greater 
distinctness  to  the  other.  To  carry  further  a metaphor  before 
used  — they  are  the  positive  and  negative  poles  of  thought ; of 
which  neither  can  gain  in  intensity  without  increasing  the  in- 
tensity of  the  other. 

§ 31.  Thus  the  consciousness  of  an  Inscrutable  Power  mani- 
fested to  us  through  all  phenomena  has  been  growing  ever  clear- 
er; and  must  eventually  be  freed  from  its  imperfections.  The 
certainty  that  on  the  one  hand  such  a Power  exists,  while  on  the 
other  hand  its  nature  transcends  intuition  and  is  beyond  imagina- 
tion, is  the  certainty  toward  which  intelligence  has  from  the  first 
been  progressing.  To  this  conclusion  Science  inevitably  arrives 
as  it  reaches  its  confines;  while  to  this  conclusion  Religion  is 
irresistibly  driven  by  criticism.  And  satisfying  as  it  does  the 
demands  of  the  most  rigorous  logic  at  the  same  time  that  it  gives 
the  religious  sentiment  the  widest  possible  sphere  of  action,  it  is 
the  conclusion  we  are  bound  to  accept  without  reserve  or  qualifi- 
cation. 

Some  do  indeed  allege  that  though  the  Ultimate  Cause  of 
things  cannot  really  be  thought  of  by  us  as  having  specified  at- 


92 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


tributes,  it  is  yet  incumbent  upon  us  to  assert  these  attributes. 
Though  the  forms  of  our  consciousness  are  such  that  the  Abso- 
lute cannot  in  any  manner  or  degree  be  brought  within  them, 
we  are  nevertheless  told  that  we  must  represent  the  Absolute  to 
ourselves  under  these  forms.  As  writes  Mr.  Mansel,  in  the 
work  from  which  I have  already  quoted  largely : “ It  is  our 
duty,  then,  to  think  of  God  as  personal;  and  it  is  our  duty  to 
believe  that  He  is  infinite.” 

That  this  is  not  the  conclusion  here  adopted,  needs  hardly  be 
said.  If  there  be  any  meaning  in  the  foregoing  arguments,  duty 
requires  us  neither  to  affirm  nor  deny  personality.  Our  duty  is 
to  submit  ourselves  with  all  humility  to  the  established  limits  of 
our  intelligence ; and  not  perversely  to  rebel  against  them.  Let 
those  who  can,  believe  that  there  is  eternal  war  set  between  our 
intellectual  faculties  and  our  moral  obligations.  I,  for  one, 
admit  no  such  radical  vice  in  the  constitution  of  things. 

This  which  to  most  will  seem  an  essentially  irreligious  posi- 
tion, is  an  essentially  religious  one  — nay  is  the  religious  one,  to 
which,  as  already  shown,  all  others  are  but  approximations.  In 
the  estimate  it  implies  of  the  Ultimate  Cause,  it  does  not  fall 
short  of  the  alternative  position  but  exceeds  .it.  Those  who 
espouse  this  alternative  position  make  the  erroneous  assumption 
that  the  choice  is  between  personality  and  something  lower  than 
personality ; whereas  the  choice  is  rather  between  personality  and 
something  higher.  Is  it  not  just  possible  that  there  is  a mode  of 
being  as  much  transcending  Intelligence  and  Will,  as  these  tran- 
scend mechanical  motion?  It  is  true  that  we  are  totally  unable 
to  conceive  any  such  higher  mode  of  being.  But  this  is  not  a 
reason  for  questioning  its  existence;  it  is  rather  the  reverse. 
Have  we  not  seen  how  utterly  incompetent  our  minds  are  to 
form  even  an  approach  to  a conception  of  that  which  underlies 
all  phenomena?  Is  it  not  proved  that  this  incompetency  is  the 
incompetency  of  the  Conditioned  to  grasp  the  Unconditioned? 
Does  it  not  follow  that  the  Ultimate  Cause  cannot  in  any  respect 
be  conceived  by  us  because  it  is  in  every  respect  greater  than 
can  be  conceived?  And  may  we  not  therefore  rightly  refrain 
from  assigning  to  it  any  attributes  whatever,  on  the  ground  that 
such  attributes,  derived  as  they  must  be  from  our  own  natures, 
are  not  elevations  but  degradations  ? Indeed  it  seems  somewhat 
strange  that  men  should  suppose  the  highest  worship  to  lie  in 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


93 


assimilating  the  object  of  their  worship  to  themselves.  Not  in 
asserting  a transcendent  difference,  but  in  asserting  a certain 
likeness,  consists  the  element  of  their  creed  which  they  think 
essential.  It  is  true  that  from  the  time  when  the  rudest  savages 
imagined  the  causes  of  all  things  to  be  creatures  of  flesh  and 
blood  like  themselves,  down  to  our  own  time,  the  degree  of 
assumed  likeness  has  been  diminishing.  But  though  a bodily 
form  and  substance  similar  to  that  of  man  has  long  since  ceased, 
among  cultivated  races,  to  be  a literally-conceived  attribute  of  the 
Ultimate  Cause  — though  the  grosser  human  desires  have  been 
also  rejected  as  unfit  elements  of  the  conception  — though  there 
is  some  hesitation  in  ascribing  even  the  higher  human  feelings, 
save  in  greatly  idealized  shapes ; yet  'it  is  still  thought  not  only 
proper,  but  imperative,  to  ascribe  the  most  abstract  qualities  of 
our  nature.  To  think  of  the  Creative  Power  as  in  all  respects  an- 
thropomorphous, is  now  considered  impious  by  men  who  yet  hold 
themselves  bound  to  think  of  the  Creative  Power  as  in  some 
respects  anthropomorphous;  and  who  do  not  see  that  the  one 
proceeding  is  but  an  evanescent  form  of  the  other.  And  then, 
most  marvelous  of  all,  this  course  is  persisted  in  even  by  those 
who  contend  that  we  are  wholly  unable  to  frame  any  conception 
whatever  of  the  Creative  Power.  After  it  has  been  shown  that 
every  supposition  respecting  the  genesis  of  the  Universe  commits 
us  to  alternative  impossibilities  of  thought  — after  it  has  been 
shown  that  each  attempt  to  conceive  real  existence  ends  in  an  in- 
tellectual suicide  — after  it  has  been  shown  why,  by  the  very 
constitution  of  our  minds,  we  are  eternally  debarred  from  think- 
ing of  the  Absolute ; it  is  still  asserted  that  we  ought  to  think  of 
the  Absolute  thus  and  thus.  In  all  imaginable  ways  we  find 
thrust  upon  us  the  truth,  that  we  are  not  permitted  to  know  — 
nay,  are  not  even  permitted  to  conceive  — that  Eeality  which  is 
behind  the  veil  of  Appearance ; and  yet  it  is  said  to  be  our  duty  to 
believe  (and  in  so  far  to  conceive)  that  this  Eeality  exists  in  a 
certain  defined  manner.  Shall  we  call  this  reverence?  or  shall 
we  call  it  the  reverse? 

Volumes  might  be  written  upon  the  impiety  of  the  pious. 
Through  the  printed  and  spoken  thoughts  of  religious  teachers 
may  almost  everywhere  be  traced  a professed  familiarity  with  the 
ultimate  mystery  of  things,  which,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  seems 
anything  but  congruous  with  the  accompanying  expressions  of 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


94 

humility.  And,  surprisingly  enough,  those  tenets  which  most 
clearly  display  this  familiarity  are  those  insisted  upon  as  forming 
the  vital  elements  of  religious  belief.  The  attitude  thus  assumed 
can  be  fitly  represented  only  by  further  developing  a simile 
long  current  in  theological  controversies  — the  simile  of  the 
watch.  If  for  a moment  we  made  the  grotesque  supposition  that 
the  ticklings  and  other  movements  of  a watch  constituted  a kind 
of  consciousness;  and  that  a watch  possessed  of  such  a con- 
sciousness insisted  on  regarding  the  watchmaker’s  actions  as 
determined  like  its  own  by  springs  and  escapements;  we  should 
simply  complete  a parallel  of  which  religious  teachers  think 
much.  And  were  we  to  suppose  that  a watch  not  only  formulated 
the  cause  of  its  existence  in  these  mechanical  terms  hut  held  that 
watches  were  bound  out  of  reverence  so  to  formulate  this  cause, 
and  even  vituperated,  as  atheistic  watches,  any  that  did  not 
venture  so  to  formulate  it;  we  should  merely  illustrate  the  pre- 
sumption of  theologians  by  carrying  their  own  argument  a step 
further.  A few  extracts  will  bring  home  to  the  reader  the 
justice  of  this  comparison.  We  are  told,  for  example,  by  one  of 
high  repute  among  religious  thinkers,  that  the  Universe  is  “ the 
manifestation  and  abode  of  a Free  Mind,  like  our  own ; embody- 
ing His  personal  thought  in  its  adjustments,  realizing  His  own 
ideal  in  its  phenomena,  just  as  we  express  our  inner  faculty 
and  character  through  the  natural  language  of  an  external  life. 
In  this  view,  we  interpret  Nature  by  Humanity;  we  find  the  key 
to  her  aspects  in  such  purposes  and  affections  as  our  own  con- 
sciousness enables  us  to  conceive ; we  look  everywhere  for  physical 
signals  of  an  ever-living  Will;  and  decipher  the  universe  as  the 
autobiography  of  an  Infinite  Spirit,  repeating  itself  in  miniature 
within  our  Finite  Spirit.”  The  same  writer  goes  still  further. 
He  not  only  thus  parallels  the  assimilation  of  the  watchmaker 
to  the  watch  — he  not  only  thinks  the  created  can  “ decipher ' 
“ the  autobiography  ” of  the  Creating ; but  he  asserts  that  the 
necessary  limits  of  the  one  are  necessary  limits  of  the  other. 
The  primary  qualities  of  bodies,  he  says,  “ belong  eternally  to  the 
material  datum  objective  to  God  ” and  cpnt.rol  his  acts ; while 
the  secondary  ones  are  “ products  of  pure  Inventive  Reason  and 
Determining  Will”  — constitute  “the  realm  of  Divine  origi- 
nality.” . . . “ While  on  this  Secondary  field  His  Mind  and 
ours  are  thus  contrasted,  they  meet  in  resemblance  again  upon 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


95 


the  Primary ; for  the  evolutions  of  deductive  Reason  there  is  but 
one  track  possible  to  all  intelligences;  no  merum  arbitrium  can 
interchange  the  false  and  true,  or  make  more  than  one  geometry, 
one  scheme  of  pure  Physics,  for  all  worlds ; and  the  Omnipotent 
Architect  Himself,  in  realizing  the  Cosmical  conception,  in 
shaping  the  orbits  out  of  immensity  and  determining  seasons 
out  of  eternity,  could  but  follow  the  laws  of  curvature,  measure 
and  proportion.”  That  is  to  say,  the  Ultimate  Cause  is  like  a 
human  mechanic,  not  only  as  “ shaping  ” the  “ material  datum 
objective  to  ” Him,  but  also  as  being  obliged  to  conform  to  the 
necessary  properties  of  that  datum.  Nor  is  this  all.  There  follows 
some  account  of  “ the  Divine  psychology,”  to  the  extent  of  saying 
that  “ we  learn  ” “ the  character  of  God  — the  order  of  affections 
in  Him  ” from  “ the  distribution  of  authority  in  the  hierarchy 
of  our  impulses.”  In  other  words,  it  is  alleged  that  the  Ultimate 
Cause  has  desires  that  are  to  be  classed  as  higher  and  lower  like 
our  own.  Every  one  has  heard  of  the  king  who  wished  he  had 
been  present  at  the  creation  of  the  world,  that  he  might  have 
given  good  advice.  He  was  humble,  however,  compared  with 
those  who  profess  to  understand  not  only  the  relation  of  the 
Creating  to  the  created,  but  also  how  the  Creating  is  constituted. 
And  yet  this  transcendent  audacity,  which  claims  to  penetrate 
the  secrets  of  the  Power  manifested  to  us  through  all  existence  — 
nay  even  to  stand  behind  that  Power  and  note  the  conditions  to 
its  action  — this  it  is  which  passes  current  as  piety ! May  we 
not  without  hesitation  affirm  that  a sincere  recognition  of  the 
truth  that  our  own  and  all  other  existence  is  a mystery  absolutely 
and  forever  beyond  our  comprehension,  contains  more  of  true 
religion  than  all  the  dogmatic  theology  ever  written  ? 

Meanwhile  let  us  recognize  whatever  of  permanent  good  there 
is  in  these  persistent  attempts  to  frame  conceptions  of  that 
which  cannot  be  conceived.  From  the  beginning  it  has  been 
only  through  the  successive  failures  of  such  conceptions  to  satisfy 
the  mind,  that  higher  and  higher  ones  have  been  gradually 
reached;  and  doubtless,  the  conceptions  now  current  are  indis- 
pensable as  transitional  modes  of  thought.  Even  more  than  this 
may  be  willingly  conceded.  It  is  possible,  nay  probable,  that 
under  their  most  abstract  forms,  ideas  of  this  order  will  always 
continue  to  occupy  the  background  of  our  consciousness.  Very 
likely  there  will  ever  remain  a need  to  give  shape  to  that  in- 


96 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


definite  sense  of  an  Ultimate  Existence,  which  forms  the  basis  of 
our  intelligence.  We  shall  always  be  under  the  necessity  of 
contemplating  it  as  some  mode  of  being ; that  is,  of  representing 
it  to  ourselves  in  some  form  of  thought,  however  vague.  And 
we  shall  not  err  in  doing  this  so  long  as  we  treat  every  notion 
we  thus  frame  as  merely  a symbol,  utterly  without  resemblance 
to  that  for  which  it  stands.  Perhaps  the  constant  formation 
of  such  symbols  and  constant  rejection  of  them  as  inadequate  may 
be  hereafter,  as  it  has  hitherto  been,  a means  of  discipline.  Per- 
petually to  construct  ideas  requiring  the  utmost  stretch  of  our 
faculties,  and  perpetually  to  find  that  such  ideas  must  be  aban- 
doned as  futile  imaginations,  may  realize  to  us,  more  fully  than 
any  other  course,  the  greatness  of  that  which  we  vainly  strive  to 
grasp.  Such  efforts  and  failures  may  serve  to  maintain  in  our 
minds  a due  sense  of  the  incommensurable  difference  between 
the  Conditioned  and  the  Unconditioned.  By  continually  seek- 
ing to  know  and  being  continually  thrown  back  with  a deepened 
conviction  of  the  impossibility  of  knowing,  we  may  keep  alive 
the  consciousness  that  it  is  alike  our  highest  wisdom  and  our 
highest  duty  to  regard  that  through  which  all  things  exist  as 
The  Unknowable. 

§ 32.  An  immense  majority  will  refuse,  with  more  or  less  of 
indignation,  a belief  seeming  to  them  so  shadowy  and  indefinite. 
Having  always  embodied  the  Ultimate  Cause  so  far  as  was  need- 
ful to  its  mental  realization,  they  must  necessarily  resent  the 
substitution  of  an  Ultimate  Cause  which  cannot  be  mentally 
realized  at  all.  “ You  offer  us,”  they  say,  “ an  unthinkable  ab- 
straction in  place  of  a Being  toward  whom  we  may  entertain 
definite  feelings.  Though  we  are  told  that  the  Absolute  is  real, 
yet  since  we  are  not  allowed  to  conceive  it,  it  might  as  well  be  a 
pure  negation.  Instead  of  a Power  which  we  can  regard  as  hav- 
ing some  sympathy  with  us,  you  would  have  us  contemplate  a 
Power  to  which  no  emotion  whatever  can  be  ascribed.  And  so 
we  are  to  be  deprived  of  the  very  substance  of  our  faith.” 

This  kind  of  protest  of  necessity  accompanies  every  change 
from  a lower  creed  to  a higher.  The  belief  in  a community  of 
nature  between  himself  and  the  object  of  his  worship  has  always 
been  to  man  a satisfactory  one ; and  he  has  always  accepted  with 
reluctance  those  successively  less  concrete  conceptions  which 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


97 


have  been  forced  upon  him.  Doubtless,  in  all  times  and  places, 
it  has  consoled  the  barbarian  to  think  of  his  deities  as  so  exactly 
like  himself  in  nature  that  they  could  be  bribed  by  offerings  of 
food;  and  the  assurance  that  deities  could  not  be  so  propitiated 
must  have  been  repugnant,  because  it  deprived  him  of  an  easy 
method  of  gaining  supernatural  protection.  To  the  Greeks  it 
was  manifestly  a source  of  comfort  that  on  occasions  of  difficulty 
they  could  obtain,  through  oracles,  the  advice  of  their  gods  — 
nay,  might  even  get  the  personal  aid  of  their  gods  in  battle ; and 
it  was  probably  a very  genuine  anger  which  they  visited  upon 
philosophers  who  called  in  question  these  gross  ideas  of  their 
mythology.  A religion  which  teaches  the  Hindu  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  purchase  eternal  happiness  by  placing  himself  under 
the  wheel  of  Juggernaut,  can  scarcely  fail  to  seem  a cruel  one 
to  him;  since  it  deprives  him  of  the  pleasurable  consciousness 
that  he  can  at  will  exchange  miseries  for  joys.  Nor  is  it  less 
clear  that  to  our  Catholic  ancestors  the  beliefs  that  crimes  could 
be  compounded  for  by  the  building  of  churches,  that  their  own 
punishments  and  those  of  their  relatives  could  be  abridged  by 
the  saying  of  masses,  and  that  divine  aid  or  forgiveness  might 
be  gained  through  the  intercession  of  saints,  were  highly  solacing 
ones ; and  that  Protestantism,  in  substituting  the  conception  of 
a God  so  comparatively  unlike  ourselves  as  not  to  be  influenced 
by  such  methods,  must  have  appeared  to  them  hard  and  cold. 
Naturally,  therefore,  we  must  expect  a further  step  in  the  same 
direction  to  meet  with  a similar  resistance  from  outraged  senti- 
ments. No  mental  revolution  can  be  accomplished  without 
more  or  less  of  laceration.  Be  it  a change  of  habit  or  a change  of 
conviction,  it  must,  if  the  habit  or  conviction  be  strong,  do  vio- 
lence to  some  of  the  feelings;  and  these  must  of  course  oppose 
it.  For  long-experienced,  and  therefore  definite,  sources  of  sat- 
isfaction, have  to  be  substituted  sources  of  satisfaction  that  have 
not  been  experienced,  and  are  therefore  indefinite.  That  which 
is  relatively  well  known  and  real  has  to  be  given  up  for  that 
which  is  relatively  unknown  and  ideal.  And  of  course  such  an 
exchange  cannot  be  made  without  a conflict  involving  pain. 
Especially  then  must  there  arise  a strong  antagonism  to  any 
alteration  in  so  deep  and  vital  a conception  as  that  with  which 
we  are  here  dealing.  Underlying  as  this  conception  does  all 
others,  a modification  of  it  threatens  to  reduce  the  superstruc- 


98 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ture  to  ruins.  Or,  to  change  the  metaphor  — being  the  root 
with  which  are  connected  our  ideas  of  goodness,  rectitude,  or 
duty,  it  appears  impossible  that  it  should  be  transformed  without 
causing  these  to  wither  away  and  die.  The  whole  higher  part 
of  the  nature  almost  of  necessity  takes  up  arms  against  a change 
which,  by  destroying  the  established  associations  of  thought, 
seems  to  eradicate  morality. 

This  is  by  no  means  all  that  has  to  be  said  for  such  protests. 
There  is  a much  deeper  meaning  in  them.  They  do  not  simply 
express  the  natural  repugnance  to  a revolution  of  belief,  here 
made  specially  intense  by  the  vital  importance  of  the  belief  to 
be  revolutionized ; but  they  also  express  an  instinctive  adhesion  to 
a belief  that  is  in  one  sense  the  best  — the  best  for  those  who 
thus  cling  to  it,  though  not  abstractedly  the  best.  For  here  let 
me  remark  that  what  were  above  spoken  of  as  the  imperfections 
of  Religion,  at  first  great,  but  gradually  diminishing,  have  been 
imperfections  only  as  measured  by  an  absolute  standard,  and  not 
as  measured  by  a relative  one.  Speaking  generally,  the  religion 
current  in  each  age  and  among  each  people  has  been  as  near  an 
approximation  to  the  truth  as  it  was  then  and  there  possible  for 
men  to  receive:  the  more  or  less  concrete  forms  in  which  it  has 
embodied  the  truth  have  simply  been  the  means  of  making  think- 
able what  would  otherwise  have  been  unthinkable;  and  so  have, 
for  the  time  being,  served  to  increase  its  impressiveness.  If  we 
consider  the  conditions  of  the  case  we  shall  find  this  to  be  an  un- 
avoidable conclusion.  During  each  stage  of  evolution  men  must 
think  in  such  terms  of  thought  as  they  possess.  While  all  the 
conspicuous  changes  of  which  they  can  observe  the  origins  have 
men  and  animals  as  antecedents,  they  are  unable  to  think  of 
antecedents  in  general  under  any  other  shapes;  and  hence  crea- 
tive agencies  are  of  necessity  conceived  by  them  in  these  shapes. 
If  during  this  phase  these  concrete  conceptions  were  taken  from 
them,  and  the  attempt  made  to  give  them  comparatively  abstract 
conceptions,  the  result  would  be  to  leave  their  minds  with  none 
at  all;  since  the  substituted  ones  could  not  be  mentally  repre- 
sented. Similarly  with  every  successive  stage  of  religious  belief 
down  to  the  last.  Though,  as  accumulating  experiences  slowly 
modify  the  earliest  ideas  of  causal  personalities,  there  grow  up 
more  general  and  vague  ideas  of  them,  yet  these  cannot  be  at 
once  replaced  by  others  still  more  general  and  vague.  Further 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


99 


experiences  must  supply  the  needful  further  abstractions  before 
the  mental  void  left  by  the  destruction  of  such  inferior  ideas 
can  be  filled  by  ideas  of  a superior  order.  And  at  the  present 
time  the  refusal  to  abandon  a relatively  concrete  notion  for  a 
relatively  abstract  one,  implies  the  inability  to  frame  the  relative- 
ly abstract  one,  and  so  proves  that  the  change  would  be  pre- 
mature and  injurious.  Still  more  clearly  shall  we  see  the  in- 
juriousness of  any  such  premature  change  on  observing  that  the 
effects  of  a belief  upon  conduct  must  be  diminished  in  pi’oportion 
as  the  vividness  with  which  it  is  realized  becomes  less.  Evils 
and  benefits  akin  to  those  which  the  savage  has  personally  felt  or 
learned  from  those  who  have  felt  them,  are  the  only  evils  and 
benefits  he  can  understand,  and  these  must  be  looked  for  as 
coming  in  ways  like  those  of  which  he  has  had  experience.  His 
deities  must  be  imagined  to  have  like  motives  and  passions  and 
methods  with  the  beings  around  him;  for  motives  and  passions 
and  methods  of  a higher  character  being  unknown  to  him,  and 
in  great  measure  unthinkable  by  him,  cannot  be  so  realized  in 
thought  as  to  influence  his  deeds.  During  every  phase  of  civili- 
zation the  actions  of  the  Unseen  Reality,  as  well  as  the  resulting 
rewards  and  punishments,  being  conceivable  only  in  such  forms 
as  experience  furnishes,  to  supplant  them  by  higher  ones  before 
wider  experiences  have  made  higher  ones  conceivable  is  to  set  up 
vague  and  uninfluential  motives  for  definite  and  influential  ones. 
Even  now,  for  the  great  mass  of  men,  unable  through  lack  of 
culture  to  trace  out  with  due  clearness  those  good  and  bad  con- 
sequences which  conduct  brings  round  through  the  established 
order  of  the  Unknowable,  it  is  needful  that  there  should  be  vividly 
depicted  future  torments  and  future  joys  — pains  and  pleasures 
of  a definite  kind,  produced  in  a manner  direct  and  simple  enough 
to  be  clearly  imagined.  Nay,  still  more  must  be  conceded.  Few, 
if  any,  are  as  yet  fitted  wholly  to  dispense  with  such  concep- 
tions as  are  current.  The  highest  abstractions  take  so  great  a 
mental  power  to  realize  with  any  vividness,  and  are  so  inoperative 
upon  conduct  unless  they  are  vividly  realized,  that  their  regula- 
tive effects  must  for  a long  period  to  come  be  appreciable  on  but 
a small  minority.  To  see  clearly  how  a right  or  wrong  act  gen- 
erates consequences,  internal  and  external,  that  go  on  branching 
out  more  widely  as  years  progress,  requires  a rare  power  of 
analysis.  To  mentally  represent  even  a single  series  of  these 


100 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


consequences,  as  it  stretches  out  into  the  remote  future,  requires 
au  equally  rare  power  of  imagination.  And  to  estimate  these 
consequences  in  their  totality,  ever  multiplying  in  number  while 
diminishing  in  intensity,  requires  a grasp  of  thought  possessed 
by  none.  Yet  it  is  only  by  such  analysis,  such  imagination,  and 
such  grasp  that  conduct  can  be  rightly  guided  in  the  absence  of 
all  other  control:  only  so  can  ultimate  rewards  and  penalties  be 
made  to  outweigh  proximate  pains  and  pleasures.  Indeed,  were 
it  not  that  throughout  the  progress  of  the  race  men’s  experiences 
of  the  effects  of  conduct  have  been  slowly  generalized  into  prin- 
ciples — were  it  not  that  these  principles  have  been  from  genera- 
tion to  generation  insisted  on  by  parents,  upheld  by  public  opin- 
ion, sanctified  by  religion,  and  enforced  by  threats  of  eternal 
damnation  for  disobedience  — were  it  not  that  under  these  potent 
influences  habits  have  been  modified  and  the  feelings  proper  to 
them  made  innate  — were  it  not,  in  short,  that  we  have  been  ren- 
dered in  a considerable  degree  organically  moral;  it  is  certain 
that  disastrous  results  would  ensue  from  the  removal  of  those 
strong  and  distinct  motives  which  the  current  belief  supplies. 
Even  as  it  is,  those  who  relinquish  the  faith  in  which  they  have 
been  brought  up  for  this  most  abstract  faith  in  which  Science 
and  Religion  unite,  may  not  uncommonly  fail  to  act  up  to-  their 
convictions.  Left  to  their  organic  morality,  enforced  only  by 
general  reasonings  imperfectly  wrought  out  and  difficult  to  keep 
before  the  mind,  their  defects  of  nature  will  often  come  out  more 
strongly  than  they  would  have  done  under  their  previous  creed. 
The  substituted  creed  can  become  adequately  operative  only  when 
it  becomes,  like  the  present  one,  an  element  in  early  education, 
and  has  the  support  of  a strong  social  sanction.  Nor  will  men  be 
quite  ready  for  it  until,  through  the  continuance  of  a discipline 
which  has  already  partially  molded  them  to  the  conditions  of  so- 
cial existence,  they  are  completely  molded  to  those  conditions. 

We  must  therefore  recognize  the  resistance  to  a change  of  the- 
ological opinion  as  in  great  measure  salutary.  It  is  not  simply 
that  strong  and  deep-rooted  feelings  are  necessarily  excited  to 
antagonism  — it  is  not  simply  that  the  highest  moral  sentiments 
join  in  the  condemnation  of  a change  which  seems  to  undermine 
their  authority;  but  it  is  that  a real  adaptation  exists  between 
an  established  belief  and  the  natures  of  those  who  defend  it,  and 
that  the  tenacity  of  the  defence  measures  the  completeness  of  the 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


101 


adaptation.  Forms  of  religion,  like  forms  of  government,  must 
be  fit  for  those  who  live  under  them;  and  in  the  one  case  as  in 
the  other,  that  form  which  is  fittest  is  that  for  which  there  is 
an  instinctive  preference.  As  certainly  as  a barbarous  race 
needs  a harsh  terrestrial  rule  and  habitually  shows  attachment  to 
a despotism  capable  of  the  necessary  rigor,  so  certainly  does  such 
a race  need  a belief  in  a celestial  rule  that  is  similarly  harsh,  and 
habitually  shows  attachment  to  such  a belief.  And  just  in  the 
same  way  that  the  sudden  substitution  of  free  institutions  for 
tyrannical  ones  is  sure  to  be  followed  by  a reaction;  so,  if  a 
creed  full  of  dreadful  ideal  penalties  is  all  at  once  replaced  by 
one  presenting  ideal  penalties  that  are  comparatively  gentle, 
there  will  inevitably  be  a return  to  some  modification  of  the  old 
belief.  The  parallelism  holds  yet  further.  During  those  early 
stages  in  which  there  is  an  extreme  incongruity  between  the  rela- 
tively best  and  the  absolutely  best,  both  political  and  religious, 
changes,  when  at  rare  intervals  they  occur,  are  necessarily  violent, 
and  necessarily  entail  violent  retrogressions.  But  as  the  incon- 
gruity between  that  which  is  and  that  which  should  be,  dimin- 
ishes, the  changes  become  more  moderate,  and  are  succeeded  by 
more  moderate  retrogressions;  until,  as  these  movements  and 
counter-movements  decrease  in  amount  and  increase  in  fre- 
quency, they  merge  into  an  almost  continuous  growth.  That 
adhesion  to  old  institutions  and  beliefs  which,  in  primitive  so- 
cieties, opposes  an  iron  barrier  to  any  advance,  and  which,  after 
the  barrier  has  been  at  length  burst  through,  brings  back  the 
institutions  and  beliefs  from  that  too-forward  position  to  which 
the  momentum  of  change  had  carried  them,  and  so  helps  to  re- 
adapt social  conditions  to  the  pojmlar  character  — this  adhesion 
to  old  institutions  and  beliefs  eventually  becomes  the  constant 
check  by  which  the  constant  advance  is  prevented  from  being  too 
rapid.  This  holds  true  of  religious  creeds  and  forms,  as  of  civil 
ones.  And  so  we  learn  that  theological  conservatism,  like  polit- 
ical conservatism,  has  an  all-important  function. 


§ 33.  That  spirit  of  toleration  which  is  so  marked  a char- 
acteristic of  modern  times,  and  is  daily  growing  more  con- 
spicuous, has  thus  a far  deeper  meaning  than  is  supposed.  What 
we  commonly  regard  simply  as  a due  respect  for  the  right  of 


102 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


private  judgment  is  really  a necessary  condition  to  the  balancing 
of  the  progressive  and  conservative  tendencies  — is  a means  of 
maintaining  the  adaptation  between  men's  beliefs  and  their  na- 
tures. It  is  therefore  a spirit  to  be  fostered;  and  it  is  a spirit 
which  the  catholic  thinker,  who  perceives  the  functions  of  these 
various  conflicting  creeds,  should  above  all  other  men  display. 
Doubtless  whoever  feels  the  greatness  of  the  error  to  which  his 
fellows  cling  and  the  greatness  of  the  truth  which  they  reject,  will 
find  it  hard  to  show  a due  patience.  It  is  hard  for  him  to  listen 
calmly  to  the  futile  arguments  used  in  support  of  irrational  doc- 
trines and  to  the  misrepresentation  of  antagonist  doctrines.  It 
is  h:.:J  for  him  to  bear  the  manifestation  of  that  pride  of 
ignorance  which  so  far  exceeds  the  pride  of  science.  Naturally 
enough,  such  a one  will  be  indignant  when  charged  with  irre- 
ligion  because  he  declines  to  accept  the  carpenter-theory  of  crea- 
tion as  the  most  worthy  one.  He  may  think  it  needless  as  it  is 
difficult  to  conceal  his  repugnance  to  a creed  which  tacitly 
ascribes  to  The  Unknowable  a love  of  adulation  such  as  would 
be  despised  in  a human  being.  Convinced  as  he  is  that  all  pun- 
ishment, as  we  see  it  wrought  out  in  the  order  of  nature,  is  but  a 
disguised  beneficence,  there  will  perhaps  escape  from  him  an 
angry  condemnation  of  the  belief  that  punishment  is  a divine 
vengeance,  and  that  divine  vengeance  is  eternal.  He  may  be 
tempted  to  show  his  contempt  when  he  is  told  that  actions  in- 
stigated by  an  unselfish  sympathy  or  by  a pure  love  of  rectitude 
are  intrinsically  sinful,  and  that  conduct  is  truly  good  only  when 
it  is  due  to  a faith  whose  openly-professed  motive  is  other-world- 
liness;  but  he  must  restrain  such  feelings.  Though  he  may  be 
unable  to  do  this  during  the  excitement  of  controversy,  or  when 
otherwise  brought  face  to  face  with  current  superstitions,  he  must 
yet  qualify  his  antagonism  in  calmer  moments;  so  that  his  ma- 
ture judgment  and  resulting  conduct  may  be  without  bias. 

To  this  end  let  him  ever  bear  in  mind  three  cardinal  facts  — 
two  of  them  already  dwelt  upon,  and  one  still  to  be  pointed  out. 
The  first  is  that  with  which  we  set  out ; namely,  the  existence  of 
a fundamental  verity  under  all  forms  of  religion,  however  de- 
graded. In  each  of  them  there  is  a soul  of  truth.  Through  the 
gross  body  of  dogmas,  traditions  and  rites  which  contain  it,  it  is 
always  visible  — dimly  or  clearly,  as  the  case  may  be.  This  it  is 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


103 


which  gives  vitality  even  to  the  rudest  creed ; this  it  is 
which  survives  every  modification ; and  this  it  is  which  we  must 
not  forget  when  condemning  the  forms  under  which  it  is  pre- 
sented. The  second  of  these  cardinal  facts,  set  forth  at  length  in 
the  foregoing  section,  is,  that  while  those  concrete  elements  in 
which  each  creed  embodies  this  soul  of  truth  are  bad  as  measured 
by  an  absolute  standard,  they  are  good  as  measured  by  a relative 
standard.  Though  from  higher  perceptions  they  hide  the  ab- 
stract verity  within  them,  yet  to  lower  perceptions  they  render 
this  verity  more  appreciable  than  it  would  otherwise  be.  They 
serve  to  make  real  and  influential  over  men  that  which  would 
else  be  unreal  and  uninfluential.  Or  we  may  call  them  the  pro- 
tective envelopes,  without  which  the  contained  truth  would  die. 
The  remaining  cardinal  fact  is  that  these  various  beliefs  are  parts 
of  the  constituted  order  of  things,  and  not  accidental  but  neces- 
sary parts.  Seeing  how  one  or  other  of  them  is  everywhere  pres- 
ent, is  of  perennial  growth,  and  when  cut  down  redevelops  in  a 
form  but  slightly  modified,  we  cannot  avoid  the  inference  that 
they  are  needful  accompaniments  of  human  life,  severally  fitted 
to  the  societies  in  which  they  are  indigenous.  From  the  highest 
point  of  view  we  must  recognize  them  as  elements  in  that  great 
evolution  of  which  the  beginning  and  end  are  beyond  our  know- 
ledge or  conception  — as  modes  of  manifestation  of  The  Un- 
knowable, and  as  having  this  for  their  warrant. 

Our  toleration  therefore  should  be  the  widest  possible.  Or, 
rather,  we  should  aim  at  something  beyond  toleration,  as  com- 
monly understood.  In  dealing  with  alien  beliefs  our  endeavor 
must  be,  not  simply  to  refrain  from  injustice  of  word  or  deed, 
but  also  to  do  justice  by  an  open  recognition  of  positive  worth. 
We  must  qualify  our  disagreement  with  as  much  as  may  be  of 
sympathy. 


§ 34.  These  admissions  will  perhaps  be  held  to  imply  that 
the  current  theology  should  be  passively  accepted ; or,  at  any  rate, 
should  not  be  actively  opposed.  “ Why,”  it  may  be  asked,  “ if  all 
creeds  have  an  average  fitness  to  their  times  and  places,  should 
we  not  rest  content  with  that  to  which  we  are  born?  If  the 
established  belief  contains  an  essential  truth  — if  the  forms  un- 
der which  it  presents  this  truth,  though  intrinsically  bad,  are 


104 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


estrinsically  good  — if  the  abolition  of  these  forms  would  be  at 
present  detrimental  to  the  great  majority  — nay,  if  there  are 
scarcely  any  to  whom  the  ultimate  and  most  abstract  can  fur- 
nish an  adequate  rule  of  life,  surely  it  is  wrong,  for  the  present 
at  least,  to  propagate  this  ultimate  and  most  abstract  belief.” 
The  reply  is,  that  though  existing  religious  ideas  and  institu- 
tions have  an  average  adaptation  to  the  characters  of  the  people 
who  live  under  them ; yet,  as  these  characters  are  ever  changing, 
the  adaptation  is  ever  becoming  imperfect ; and  the  ideas  and  in- 
stitutions need  remodelling  with  a frequency  proportionate  to  the 
rapidity  of  the  change.  Hence,  while  it  is  requisite  that  free 
play  should  be  given  to  conservative  thought  and  action,  progres- 
sive thought  and  action  must  also  have  free  play.  Without  the 
agency  of  both,  there  cannot  be  those  continual  readaptations 
which  orderly  progress  demands. 

Whoever  hesitates  to  utter  that  which  he  thinks  the  highest 
truth,  lest  it  should  be  too  much  in  advance  of  the  time,  may 
reassure  himself  by  looking  at  his  acts  from  an  impersonal  point 
of  view.  Let  him  duly  realize  the  fact  that  opinion  is  the  agency 
through  which  character  adapts  external  arrangements  to  itself 
— that  his  opinion  rightly  forms  part  of  this  agency  — is  a unit 
of  force,  constituting,  with  other  such  units,  the  general  power 
which  works  out  social  changes ; and  he  will  perceive  that  he  may 
properly  give  full  utterance  to  his  innermost  conviction,  leaving 
it  to  produce  what  effect  it  may.  It  is  not  for  nothing  that  he 
has  in  him  these  sympathies  with  some  principles  and  repug- 
nance to  others.  He,  with  all  his  capacities  and  aspirations  and 
beliefs,  is  not  an  accident,  but  a product  of  the  time.  He  must 
remember  that  while  he  is  a descendant  of  the  past  he  is  a parent 
of  the  future,  and  that  his  thoughts  are  as  children  born  to 
him,  which  he  may  not  carelessly  let  die.  He,  like  every  other 
man,  may  properly  consider  himself  as  one  of  the  myriad  agencies 
through  whom  works  the  Unknown  Cause;  and  when  the  Un- 
known Cause  produces  in  him  a certain  belief,  he  is  thereby  au- 
thorized to  profess  and  act  out  that  belief.  For,  to  render  in 
their  highest  sense  the  words  of  the  poet : 

Nature  is  made  better  by  no  mean, 

But  nature  makes  that  mean : over  that  art 
Which  you  say  adds  to  nature,  is  an  art 
That  nature  makes. 


THE  RECONCILIATION 


105 


Not  as  adventitious,  therefore,  will  the  wise  man  regard  the 
faith  which  is  in  him.  The  highest  truth  he  sees  he  will  fearless- 
ly utter ; knowing  that,  let  what  may  come  of  it,  he  is  thus  play- 
ing his  right  part  in  the  world  — knowing  that  if  he  can  effect 
the  change  he  aims  at  — well ; if  not  — well  also ; though  not  so 
well. 


10G 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


PART  TWO. 

THE  KNOWABLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PHILOSOPHY  DEFINED. 

§ 35.  After  concluding  that  we  cannot  know  the  ultimate 
nature  of  that  which  is  manifested  to  us,  there  arise  the  ques- 
tions — What  is  it  that  we  know  ? In  what  sense  do  we  know 
it  ? And  in  what  consists  our  highest  knowledge  of  it  ? Hav- 
ing repudiated  as  impossible  the  Philosophy  which  professes  to 
formulate  Being  as  distinguished  from  Appearance,  it  becomes 
needful  to  say  what  Philosophy  truly  is  — not  simply  to  specify 
its  limits,  but  to  specify  its  character  within  those  limits.  Given 
a certain  sphere  as  the  sphere  to  which  human  intelligence  is 
restricted,  and  there  remains  to  define  the  peculiar  product  of 
human  intelligence  which  may  still  be  called  Philosophy. 

In  doing  this  we  may  advantageously  avail  ourselves  of  the 
method  followed  at  the  outset,  of  separating  from  conceptions 
that  are  partially  or  mainly  erroneous  the  element  of  truth  they 
contain.  As  in  the  chapter  on  “ Religion  and  Science  ” it  was 
inferred  that  religious  beliefs,  wrong  as  they  might  individually 
be  in  their  particular  forms,  nevertheless  probably  each  con- 
tained an  essential  verity,  and  that  this  was  most  likely  com- 
mon to  them  all  — so  in  this  place  it  is  to  be  inferred  that 
past  and  present  beliefs  respecting  the  nature  of  Philosophy  are 
none  of  them  wholly  false,  and  that  that  in  which  they  are 
true  is  that  in  which  they  agree.  We  have  here,  then,  to  do 
what  was  done  there — “to  compare  all  opinions  of  the  same 
genus;  to  set  aside  as  more  or  less  discrediting  one  another 
those  various  special  and  concrete  elements  in  which  such  opin- 


PHILOSOPHY  DEFINED 


107 


ions  disagree;  to  observe  what  remains  after  the  discordant 
constituents  have  been  eliminated;  and  to  find  for  this  remain- 
ing constituent  that  abstract  expression  which  holds  true 
throughout  its  divergent  modifications.” 

§ 36.  Earlier  speculations  being  passed  over,  we  see  that 
among  the  Greeks,  before  there  had  arisen  any  notion  of  Philos- 
ophy in  general;  apart  from  particular  forms  of  Philosophy, 
the  particular  forms  of  it  from  which  the  general  notion  was 
to  arise  were  hypotheses  respecting  some  universal  principle 
that  constituted  the  essence  of  all  concrete  kinds  of  being.  To 
the  question  — “What  is  that  invariable  existence  of  which 
these  are  variable  states ?”  there  were  sundry  answers  — Water, 
Air,  Fire.  A class  of  hypotheses  of  this  all-embracing  charac- 
ter having  been  propounded,  it  became  possible  for  Pythagoras 
to  conceive  of  Philosophy  in  the  abstract  as  knowledge  the 
most  remote  from  practical  ends ; and  to  define  it  as  “ knowledge 
of  immaterial  and  eternal  things  ” — “ the  cause  of  the  mate- 
rial existence  of  things  ” being,  in  his  view,  Number.  Thereafter 
we  find  continued  a pursuit  of  Philosophy  as  some  ultimate  in- 
terpretation of  the  Universe,  assumed  to  be  possible  whether 
actually  reached  in  any  case  or  not.  And  in  the  course  of  this 
pursuit  various  such  ultimate  interpretations  were  given,  as 
that  “ One  is  the  beginning  of  all  things,”  that  “ the  One  is 
God,”  that  “the  One  is  Finite,”  that  “the  One  is  Infinite,”  that 
“ Intelligence  is  the  governing  principle  of  things,”  and  so  on. 
From  all  which  it  is  plain,  that  the  knowledge  supposed  to 
constitute  Philosophy  differed  from  other  knowledge  in  its 
transcendent,  exhaustive  character.  In  the  subsequent  course  of 
speculation,  after  the  Sceptics  had  shaken  men’s  faith  in  their 
powers  of  reaching  such  transcendent  knowledge,  there  grew  up 
a much-restricted  conception  of  Philosophy.  Under  Socrates, 
and  still  more  under  the  Stoics,  Philosophy  became  little  else 
than  the  doctrine  of  right  living.  Its  subject-matter  was  prac- 
tically cut  down  to  the  proper  ruling  of  conduct,  public  and  pri- 
vate. Not,  indeed,  that  the  proper  ruling  of  conduct,  as  conceived 
by  sundry  of  the  later  Greek  thinkers  to  constitute  subject-matter 
of  Philosophy,  answered  to  what  was  popularly  understood  by 
the  proper  ruling  of  conduct.  The  injunctions  of  Zeno  were 
not  of  the  same  class  .as  these  which  guided  men  from  early 


108 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


times  downward,  in  their  daily  observances,  sacrifices,  customs  — 
all  having  more  or  less  of  religious  sanction;  but  they  were 
principles  of  action  enunciated  without  reference  to  times,  or 
persons,  or  special  cases.  What,  then,  was  the  constant  element 
in  these  unlike  ideas  of  Philosophy  held  by  the  ancients  ? Clear- 
ly, the  character  in  which  this  last  idea  agrees  with  the  first 
is,  that  within  its  sphere  of  inquiry  Philosophy  seeks  for  wide 
and  deep  truths  as  distinguished  from  the  multitudinous  detailed 
truths  which  the  surfaces  of  things  and  actions  present. 

By  comparing  tho  conceptions  of  Philosophy  that  have  been 
current  in  modern  times,  we  get  a like  result.  The  disciples 
of  Schelling,  Fichte,  and  their  kindred,  join  the  Hegelian  in 
ridiculing  the  so-called  Philosophy  which  has  usurped  the  title 
in  England.  Not  without  reason,  they  laugh  on  reading  of 
“ Philosophical  instruments,”  and  would  deny  that  any  one  of 
the  papers  in  the  Philosophical  Transactions  has  the  least  claim 
to  come  under  such  a title.  Retaliating  on  their  critics,  the 
English  may,  and  most  of  them  do,  reject  as  absurd  the  imagined 
Philosophy  of  the  German  schools.  As  consciousness  cannot 
be  transcended,  they  hold  that  whether  consciousness  does  or 
does  not  vouch  for  the  existence  of  something  beyond  itself,  it 
at  any  rate  cannot  comprehend  that  something;  and  that  hence, 
in  so  far  as  any  Philosophy  professes  to  be  an  Ontology,  it  is 
false.  These  two  views  cancel  one  another  over  large  parts 
of  their  areas.  The  English  criticism  on  the  German  cuts  off 
from  Philosophy  all  that  is  regarded  as  absolute  knowledge. 
The  German  criticism  on  the  English  tacitly  implies  that  if 
Philosophy  is  limited  to  the  relative,  it  is  at  any  rate  not  con- 
cerned with  those  aspects  of  the  relative  which  are  embodied  in 
mathematical  formulae,  in  accounts  of  physical  researches,  in 
chemical  analyses,  or  in  descriptions  of  species  and  reports  of 
physiological  experiments.  Now  what  has  the  too-wide  German 
conception  in  common  with  the  conception  general  among  Eng- 
lish men  of  science;  which,  narrow  and  crude  as  it  is,  is  not  so 
narrow  and  crude  as  their  misuse  of  the  word  philosophical  indi- 
cates? The  two  have  this  in  common,  that  neither  Germans 
nor  English  apply  the  word  to  unsystematized  knowledge  — to 
knowledge  quite  un-coordinated  with  other  knowledge.  Even 
the  most  limited  specialist  would  not  describe  as  philosophical 


PHILOSOPHY  DEFINED 


109 


an  essay  which,  dealing  wholly  with  details,  manifested  no  per- 
ception of  the  bearings  of  those  details  on  wider  truths. 

The  vague  idea  thus  raised  of  that  in  which  the  various 
conceptions  of  Philosophy  agree  may  be  rendered  more  definite 
by  comparing  what  has  been  known  in  England  as  Natural 
Philosophy  with  that  development  of  it  called  Positive  Philoso- 
phy. Though,  as  M.  Comte  admits,  the  two  consist  of  knowledge 
essentially  the  same  in  kind;  yet,  by  having  put  tills  kind  of 
knowledge  into  a more  coherent  form,  he  has  given  it  more 
of  that  character  to  which  the  term  philosophical  is  applied. 
Without  expressing  any  opinion  respecting  the  truth  of  his  co- 
ordination, it  must  be  conceded  that  by  the  fact  of  its  co-ordina- 
tion the  body  of  knowledge  organized  by  him  has  a better  claim 
to  the  title  Philosophy  than  has  the  comparatively  unorganized 
body  of  knowledge  named  Natural  Philosophy. 

If  subdivisions  of  Philosophy,  or  more  special  forms  of  it, 
be  contrasted  with  one  another,  or  with  the  whole,  the  same 
implication  comes  out.  Moral  Philosophy  and  Political  Philos- 
ophy agree  with  Philosophy  at  large  in  the  comprehensiveness 
of  their  reasonings  and  conclusions.  ' Though  under  the  head 
of  Moral  Philosophy  we  treat  of  human  actions  as  right  or 
wrong,  we  do  not  include  special  directions  for  behavior  in 
the  nursery,  at  table,  or  on  the  exchange;  and  though  Political 
Philosophy  has  for  its  topic  the  conduct  of  men  in  their  public 
relations,  it  does  not  concern  itself  with  modes  of  voting  or  de- 
tails of  administration.  Both  of  these  sections  of  Philosophy 
contemplate  particular  instances,  only  as  illustrating  truths  of 
wide  application. 

§ 37.  Thus  every  one  of  these  conceptions  implies  the  belief 
in  a possible  way  of  knowing  things  more  completely  than  they 
are  known  through  simple  experiences  mechanically  accumu- 
lated in  memory  or  heaped  up  in  cyclopedias.  Though  in  the 
extent  of  the  sphere  which  they  have  supposed  Philosophy 
to  fill,  men  have  differed  and  still  differ  very  widely,  yet  there 
is  a real  if  unavowed  agreement  among  them  in  signifying  by 
this  title  a knowledge  which  transcends  ordinary  knowledge. 
That  which  remains  as  the  common  element  in  these  concep- 
tions of  Philosophy,  after  the  elimination  of  their  discordant 
elements,  is  — 'knowledge  of  the  highest  degree  of  generality. 


110 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


We  see  this  tacitly  asserted  by  the  simultaneous  inclusion  of  God, 
Nature,  and  Man  within  its  scope;  or  still  more  distinctly  by 
the  division  of  Philosophy  as  a whole  into  Theological,  Physical, 
Ethical,  etc.  For  that  which  characterizes  the  genus  of  which 
these  are  sj^ecies  must  be  something  more  general  than  that 
which  distinguishes  any  one  species. 

What  must  be  the  specific  shape  here  given  to  this  conception  ? 
The  range  of  intelligence  we  find  to  be  limited  to  the  relative. 
Though  persistently  conscious  of  a Power  manifested  to  us, 
ive  have  abandoned  as  futile  the  attempt  to  learn  anything 
respecting  the  nature  of  that  PoAver;  and  so  have  shut  out 
Philosophy  from  much  of  the  domain  supposed  to  belong  to  it. 
The  domain  left  is  that  occupied  by  Science.  Science  concerns 
itself  with  the  co-existences  and  sequences  among  phenomena, 
grouping  these  at  first  into  generalizations  of  a simple  or  Ioav 
order,  and  rising  gradually  to  higher  and  more  extended  general- 
izations. But  if  so,  where  remains  any  subject-matter  for  Phil- 
osophy ? 

The  reply  is.  Philosophy  may  still  properly  be  the  title  re- 
tained for  knoAvledge  of  the  highest  generality.  Science  means 
merely  the  family  of  the  Sciences  — stands  for  nothing  more 
than  the  sum  of  knoAvledge  formed  of  their  contributions,  and 
ignores  the  knoAvledge  constituted  by  the  fusion  of  all  these  con- 
tributions into  a whole.  As  usage  has  defined  it,  Science  con- 
sists of  truths  existing  more  or  less  separated,  and  does  not 
recognize  these  truths  as  entirely  integrated.  An  illustration 
will  make  the  difference  clear. 

If  we  ascribe  the  Aoav  of  a river  to  the  same  force  which 
causes  the  fall  of  a stone,  we  make  a statement,  true  as  far  as 
it  goes,  that  belongs  to  a certain  division  of  Science.  If,  in 
further  explanation  of  a movement  produced  by  gravitation  in 
a direction  almost  horizontal,  we  cite  the  law  that  fluids  sub- 
ject to  mechanical  forces  exert  reactive  forces  which  are  equal 
in  all  directions,  we  formulate  a.  wider  fact,  containing  the 
scientific  interpretation  of  many  other  phenomena,  as  those 
presented  by  the  fountain,  the  hydraulic  press,  the  steam-engine, 
the  air-pump.  And  when  this  proposition,  extending  only  to 
the  dynamics  of  fluids  is  merged  in  a proposition  of  general 
dynamics,  comprehending  the  laws  of  movement  of  solids  as  well 
.as  of  fluids,  there  is  reached  a yet  higher  truth,  but  still  a 


PHILOSOPHY  DEFINED 


111 


truth  that  comes  wholly  within  the  realm  of  Science.  Again, 
looking  around  at  Birds  and  Mammals,  suppose  we  say  that 
air-breathing  animals  are  hot-blooded;  and  that  then,  remem- 
bering how  Reptiles,  which  also  breathe  air,  are  not  much 
warmer  than  their  media,  we  say,  more  truly,  that  animals 
(bulks  being  equal)  have  temperatures  proportionate  to  the 
quantities  of  air  they  breathe;  and  that  then,  calling  to  mind 
certain  large  fish  which  maintain  a heat  considerably  above 
that  of  the  water  they  swim  in,  we  further  correct  the  gen- 
eralization by  saying  that  the  temperature  varies  as  the  rate 
of  oxygenation  of  the  blood ; and  that  then,  modifying  the 
statement  to  meet  other  criticisms,  we  finally  assert  the  relation 
to  be  between  the  amount  of  heat  and  the  amount  of  molecular 
change  — supposing  we  do  all  this,  we  state  scientific  truths 
that  are  successively  wider  and  more  complete,  but  truths  which 
to  the  last  remain  purely  scientific.  Once  more,  if,  guided  by 
mercantile  experiences,  we  reach  the  conclusion  that  prices  rise 
when  the  demand  exceeds  the  supply;  and  that  commodities 
flow  from  places  where  they  are  abundant  to  places  where  they 
are  scarce;  and  that  the  industries  of  different  localities  are 
determined  in  their  kinds  mainly  by  the  facilities  which  the 
localities  afford  for  them ; and  if,  studying  these  generalizations 
of  political  economy,  we  trace  them  all  to  the  truth  that  each 
man  seeks  satisfaction  for  his  desires  in  ways  costing  the  small- 
est efforts  — such  social  phenomena  being  resultants  of  individ- 
ual actions  so  guided  — we  are  still  dealing  with  the  propositions 
of  Science  only. 

And  now  how  is  Philosophy  constituted?  It  is  constituted 
by  carrying  a stage  further  the  process  indicated.  So  long  as 
these  truths  are  known  only  apart  and  regarded  as  independent, 
even  the  most  general  of  them  cannot  without  laxity  of  speech  be 
called  philosophical.  But  when,  having  been  severally  reduced 
to  a simple  mechanical  axiom,  a principle  of  molecular  physics, 
and  a.  law  of  social  action,  they  are  contemplated  together  as 
corollaries  of  some  ultimate  truth,  then  we  rise  to  the  kind  of 
knowledge  that  constitutes  Philosophy  proper. 

The  truths  of  Philosophy  thus  bear  the  same  relation  to  the 
highest  scientific  truths  that  each  of  these  bears  to  lower  scien- 
tific truths.  As  each  widest  generalization  of  Science  com- 
prehends and  consolidates  the  narrower  generalizations  of  its 


112 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


own  division,  so  the  generalizations  of  Philosophy  comprehend 
and  consolidate  the  widest  generalizations  of  Science.  It  is 
therefore  a knowledge  the  extreme  opposite  in  kind  to  that  which 
experience  first  accumulates.  It  is  the  final  product  of  that 
process  which  begins  with  a.  mere  colligation  of  crude  observa- 
tions, goes  on  establishing  propositions  that  are  broader  and 
more  separated  from  particular  cases,  and  ends  in  universal 
propositions.  Or  to  bring  the  definition  to  its  simplest  and 
clearest  form  — Knowledge  of  the  lowest  kind  is  un-unified 
knowledge;  Science  is  partially-unified  knowledge;  Philosophy  is 
completely-unified  knowledge. 

§ 38.  Such,  at  least,  is  the  meaning  we  must  here  give  to 
the  word  Philosophy,  if  we  employ  it  at  all.  In  so  defining 
it,  we  accept  that  which  is  common  to  the  various  conceptions 
of  it  current  among  both  ancients  and  moderns  — rejecting 
those  elements  in  which  these  conceptions  disagree  or  exceed  the 
possible  range  of  intelligence.  In  short,  we  are  simply  giving 
precision  to  that  application  of  the  word  which  is  gradually 
establishing  itself. 

Two  forms  of  Philosophy,  as  thus  understood,  may  be  dis- 
tinguished and  dealt  with  separately.  On  the  one  hand  the 
things  contemplated  may  be  the  universal  truths:  all  particular 
truths  referred  to  being  used  simply  for  proof  or  elucidation 
of  these  universal  truths.  On  the  other  hand,  setting  out  with 
the  universal  truths  as  granted,  the  things  contemplated  may  be 
the  particular  truths  as  interpreted  by  them.  In  both  cases 
we  deal  with  the  universal  truths;  but  in  the  one  case  they 
are  passive  and  in  the  other  case  active  — in  the  one  case  they 
form  the  products  of  exploration  and  in  the  other  case  the 
instruments  of  exploration.  These  divisions  we  may  appropri- 
ately call  General  Philosophy  and  Special  Philosophy  respec- 
tively. 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


113 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

§ 39.  Every  thought  involves  a whole  system  of  thoughts; 
and  ceases  to  exist  if  severed  from  its  various  correlatives.  As  we 
cannot  isolate  a single  organ  of  a living  body,  and  deal  with 
it  as  though  it  had  a life  independent  of  the  rest;  so,  from  the 
organized  structure  of  our  cognitions,  we  cannot  cut  out  one  and 
proceed  as  though  it  had  survived  the  separation.  The  develop- 
ment of  formless  protoplasm  into  an  embryo  is  a specialization 
of  parts,  the  distinctness  of  which  increases  only  as  fast  as  their 
combination  increases  — each  becomes  a distinguishable  organ 
only  on  condition  that  it  is  bound  up  with  others,  which  have 
simultaneously  become  distinguishable  organs ; and,  similarly, 
from  the  unformed  material  of  consciousness,  a developed  in- 
telligence can  arise  only  by  a process  which,  in  making  thoughts 
defined,  also  makes  them  mutually  dependent  — establishes 
among  them  certain  vital  connections  the  destruction  of 
which  causes  instant  death  of  the  thoughts.  Overlooking  this 
all-important  truth,  however,  speculators  have  habitually  set  out 
with  some  professedly  simple  datum  or  data;  have  supposed 
themselves  to  assume  nothing  beyond  this  datum  or  these  data; 
and  have  thereupon  proceeded  to  prove  or  disprove  propositions 
which  were,  by  implication,  already  unconsciously  asserted  along 
with  that  which  was  consciously  asserted. 

This  reasoning  in  a circle  has  resulted  from  the  misuse  of 
words : not  that  misuse  commonly  enlarged  upon  — not  the 
misapplication  or  change  of  meaning  whence  so  much  error 
arises;  but  a more  radical  and  less  obvious  misuse.  Only  that 
thought  which  is  directly  indicated  by  each  word  has  been 
contemplated ; while  numerous  thoughts  indirectly  indicated 
have  been  left  out  of  consideration.  Because  a spoken  or  writ- 
ten word  can  be  detached  from  all  others,  it  has  been  inadver- 


114 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


tenth'  assumed  that  the  thing  signified  by  a word  can  be  de- 
tached from  the  things  signified  by  all  other  words.  Though 
more  deeply  hidden,  the  mistake  is  of  the  same  order  as  that 
made  by  the  Greeks,  who  were  continually  led  astray  by  the 
belief  in  some  community  of  nature  between  the  symbol  and 
that  which  it  symbolized.  For  though  here  community  of  na- 
ture is  not  assumed  to  the  same  extent  as  of  old,  it  is  assumed 
to  this  extent,  that  because  the  symbol  is  separable  from  all 
other  symbols,  and  can  be  contemplated  as  having  an  independ- 
ent existence,  so  the  thought  symbolized  may  be  thus  separated 
and  thus  contemplated.  How  profoundly  this  error  vitiates  the 
conclusions  of  one  who  makes  it,  we  shall  quickly  see  on  taking 
a case.  The  sceptical  metaphysician,  wishing  his  reasonings  to 
be  as  rigorous  as  possible,  says  to  himself,  “ I will  take  for 
granted  only  this  one  thing.'”  What  now  are  the  tacit  assump- 
tions inseparable  from  his  avowed  assumption?  The  resolve 
itself  indirectly  asserts  that  there  is  some  other  thing,  or  are 
some  other  things,  which  he  might  assume;  for  it  is  impossible 
to  think  of  unity  without  thinking  of  a correlative  duality  or 
multiplicity.  In  the  very  act,  therefore,  of  restricting  him- 
self, he  takes  in  much  that  is  professedly  left  out.  Again,  be- 
fore proceeding  he  must  give  a definition  of  that  which  he  as- 
sumes. Is  nothing  unexpressed  involved  in  the  thought  of  a 
thing  as  defined?  There  is  the  thought  of  something  excluded 
by  the  definition- — ■ there  is,  as  before,  the  thought  of  other 
existence.  But  there  is  much  more.  Defining  a thing,  or 
setting  a limit  to  it,  implies  the  thought  of  a limit;  and  limit 
cannot  be  thought  of  apart  from  some  notion  of  quantity  — 
extensive,  protensive,  or  intensive.  Further,  definition  is  im- 
possible unless  there  enters  into  it  the  thought  of  difference; 
and  difference,  besides  being  unthinkable  without  having  two 
things  that  differ,  implies  the  existence  of  other  differences 
than  the  one  recognized ; since  otherwise  there  can  be  no  general 
conception  of  difference.  ISTor  is  this  all.  As  before  pointed  out 
(§  24)  all  thought  involves  the  consciousness  of  likeness:  the 
one  thing  avowedly  postulated  cannot  be  known  absolutely  as  one 
thing,  but  can  be  known  only  as  of  such  or  such  kind  — only  as 
classed  with  other  things  in  virtue  of  some  common  attribute. 
Thus  along  with  the  single  avowed  datum,  we  have  surrepti- 
tiously brought  in  a nmnber  of  unavowed  data  — - existence  other 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


115 


than  that  alleged , quantity , number,  limit , difference , likeness , 
class , attribute.  Saying  nothing  of  the  many  more  which  an 
exhaustive  analysis  would  disclose,  we  have  in  these  unacknowl- 
edged postulates  the  outlines  of  a general  theory;  and  that 
theory  can  be  neither  proved  nor  disproved  by  the  metaphysi- 
cian’s argument.  Insist  that  his  symbol  shall  be  interpreted  at 
every  step  into  its  full  meaning,  with  all  the  complementary 
thoughts  implied  by  that  meaning,  and  you  find  already  taken 
for  granted  in  the  premises  that  which  in  the  conclusion  is  as- 
serted or  denied. 

In  what  way,  then,  must  Philosophy  set  out?  The  devel- 
oped intelligence  is  framed  upon  certain  organized  and  con- 
solidated conceptions  of  which  it  cannot  divest  itself ; and  which 
it  can  no  more  stir  without  using  than  the  body  can  stir  without 
help  of  its  limbs.  In  what  way,  then,  is  it  possible  for  intelli- 
gence, striving  after  Philosophy,  to  give  any  account  of  these 
conceptions,  and  to  show  either  their  validity  or  their  invalidity  ? 
There  is  but  one  way.  Those  of  them  which  are  vital,  or  cannot 
be  severed  from  the  rest  without  mental  dissolution,  must  be 
assumed  as  true  provisionally . The  fundamental  intuitions  that 
are  essential  to  the  process  of  thinking  must  be  temporarily 
accepted  as  unquestionable,  leaving  the  assumption  of  their 
unquestionableness  to  be  justified  by  the  results. 

§ 40.  IIow  is  it  to  be  justified  by  the  results?  As  any  other 
assumption  is  justified  — by  ascertaining  that  all  the  conclu- 
sions deducible  from  it  correspond  with  the  facts  as  directly 
observed  — by  showing  the  agreement  between  the  experiences  it 
leads  us  to  anticipate,  and  the  actual  experiences.  There  is  no 
mode  of  establishing  the  validity  of  any  belief,  except  that  of 
showing  its  entire  congruity  with  all  other  beliefs.  If  we  sup- 
pose that  a mass  which  has  a certain  color  and  lustre  is  the  sub- 
stance called  gold,  how  do  we  proceed  to  prove  the  hypothesis 
that  it  is  gold?  We  represent  to  ourselves  certain  other  im- 
pressions which  gold  produces  on  us,  and  then  observe  whether, 
under  the  appropriate  conditions,  this  particular  mass  produces 
on  us  such  impressions.  We  remember,  as  we  say,  that  gold 
has  a high  specific  gravity;  and  if,  on  poising  this  substance  on 
the  finger,  we  find  that  its  weight  is  great  considering  its  bulk,  we 
^ake  the  correspondence  between  the  represented  impression  and 


11G 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  presented  impression  as  further  evidence  that  the  substance 
is  gold.  In  response  to  a demand  for  more  proof,  we  compare 
certain  other  ideal  and  real  effects.  Knowing  that  gold,  unlike 
most  metals,  is  insoluble  in  nitric  acid,  we  imagine  to  ourselves 
a drop  of  nitric  acid  placed  on  the  surface  of  this  yellow,  glitter- 
ing, heavy  substance,  without  causing  corrosion;  and  when,  after 
so  placing  a drop  of  nitric  acid,  no  effervescence  or  other  change 
follows,  we  hold  this  agreement  between  the  anticipation  and 
the  experience  to  be  an  additional  reason  for  thinking  that  the 
substance  is  gold.  And  if,  similarly,  the  great  malleability 
possessed  by  gold  we  find  to  be  paralleled  by  the  great  mallea- 
bility of  this  substance;  if,  like  gold,  it  fuses  at  about  2,000 
degrees;  crystallizes  in  octahedrons;  is  dissolved  by  selenic  acid; 
and,  under  all  conditions,  does  what  gold  does  under  such  condi- 
tions; the  conviction  that  it  is  gold  reaches  what  we  regard  as 
the  highest  certainty  — we  know  it  to  be  gold  in  the  fullest 
sense  of  knowing.  For,  as  we  here  see,  our  whole  knowledge  of 
gold  consists  in  nothing  more  than  the  consciousness  of  a definite 
set  of  impressions,  standing  in  definite  relations,  disclosed  under 
definite  conditions;  and  if,  in  a present  experience,  the  impres- 
sions, relations,  and  conditions  perfectly  correspond  with  those 
in  past  experiences,  the  cognition  has  all  the  validity  of  which  it 
is  capable.  So  that,  generalizing  the  statement,  hypotheses, 
down  even  to  those  simple  ones  which  we  make  from  moment 
to  moment  in  our  acts  of  recognition,  are  verified  when  entire 
congruity  is  found  to  exist  between  the  states  of  consciousness 
constituting  them,  and  certain  other  states  of  consciousness  given 
in  perception,  or  reflection,  or  both;  and  no  other  knowledge  is 
possible  for  us  than  that  which  consists  of  the  consciousness  of 
such  congruities  and  their  correlative  incongruities. 

Hence  Philosophy,  compelled  to  make  those  fundamental  as- 
sumptions without  which  thought  is  impossible,  has  to  justify 
them  by  showing  their  congruity  with  all  other  dicta  of  con- 
sciousness. Debarred  as  we  are  from  everything  beyond  the 
relative,  truth,  raised  to  its  highest  form,  can  be  for  us  nothing 
more  than  perfect  agreement,  throughout  the  whole  range  of  our 
experience,  between  those  representations  of  things  which  we 
distinguish  as  ideal  and  those  presentations  of  things  which  we 
distinguish  as  real.  If,  by  discovering  a proposition  to  be 
untrue,  we  mean  nothing  more  than  discovering  a difference 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


117 


between  a thing  expected  and  a thing  perceived;  then  a body 
of  conclusions  in  which  no  such  difference  anywhere  occurs, 
must  be  what  we  mean  by  an  entirely  true  body  of  conclusions. 

And  here,  indeed,  it  becomes  also  obvious  that,  setting  out 
with  these  fundamental  intuitions  provisionally  assumed  to  be 
true  — that  is,  provisionally  assumed  to  be  congruous  with  all 
other  dicta  of  consciousness  — the  process  of  proving  or  disprov- 
ing the  congruity  becomes  the  business  of  Philosophy;  and  the 
complete  establishment  of  the  congruity  becomes  the  same  thing 
as  the  complete  unification  of  knowledge  in  which  Philosophy 
reaches  its  goal. 

§ 41.  What  is  this  datum,  or  rather  what  are  these  data, 
which  Philosophy  cannot  do  without?  Clearly  one  primordial 
datum  is  involved  in  the  foregoing  statement.  Already  by  im- 
plication we  have  assumed,  and  must  forever  continue  to  assume 
that  congruities  and  incongruities  exist,  and  are  cognizable  by 
us.  We  cannot  avoid  accepting  as  true  the  verdict  of  conscious- 
ness that  some  manifestations  are  like  one  another  and  some 
are  unlike  one  another.  Unless  consciousness  be  a competent 
judge  of  the  likeness  and  unlikeness  of  its  states,  there  can  never 
be  established  that  congruity  throughout  the  whole  of  our  cog- 
nitions which  constitutes  Philosophy ! nor  can  there  ever  be 
established  that  incongruity  by  which  only  any  hypothesis,  philo- 
sophical or  other,  can  be  shown  erroneous. 

The  impossibility  of  moving  toward  either  conviction  or  scep- 
ticism without  postulating  thus  much,  we  shall  see  even  more 
vividly  on  observing  how  every  step  in  reasoning  postulates  thus 
much,  over  and  over  again.  To  say  that  all  things  of  a certain 
class  are  characterized  by  a certain  attribute,  is  to  say  that  all 
things  known  as  like  in  those  various  attributes  connoted  by  their 
common  name,  are  also  like  in  having  the  particular  attribute 
specified.  To  say  that  some  object  of  immediate  attention 
belongs  to  this  class,  is  to  say  that  it  is  like  all  the  others  in 
the  various  attributes  connoted  by  their  common  name.  To  say 
that  this  object  possesses  the  particular  attribute  specified,  is 
to  say  that  it  is  like  the  others  in  this  respect  also.  While,  con- 
trariwise, the  assertion  that  the  attribute  thus  inferred  to  be 
possessed  by  it  is  not  possessed,  implies  the  assertion  that 
in  place  of  one  of  the  alleged  likenesses  there  exists  an  unlike- 


118 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ness.  Neither  affirmation  nor  denial,  therefore,  of  any  deliver- 
ance of  reason,  or  any  element  of  such  deliverance,  is  possible 
without  accepting  the  dictum  of  consciousness  that  certain  of 
its  states  are  like  or  unlike.  Whence,  besides  seeing  that  the 
unified  knowledge  constituting  a completed  Philosophy,  is  a 
knowledge  composed  of  parts  that  are  universally  congruous; 
and  besides  seeing  that  it  is  the  business  of  Philosophy  to  estab- 
lish their  universal  congruity;  we  also  see  that  every  act  of  the 
process  by  which  this  universal  congruity  is  to  be  established, 
down  even  to  the  components  of  every  inference  and  every  ob- 
servation, consists  in  the  establishment  of  congruity. 

Consequently,  the  assumption  that  a congruity  or  an  incon- 
gruity exists  when  consciousness  testifies  to  it,  is  an  inevitable 
assumption.  It  is  useless  to  say,  as  Sir  W.  Hamilton  does,  that 
“ consciousness  is  to  be  ])resumed  trustworthy  until  proved  men- 
dacious/’ It  cannot  be  proved  mendacious  in  this,  its  primor- 
dial act;  since,  as  we  see,  proof  involves  a repeated  acceptance 
of  this  primordial  act.  Nay  more,  the  very  thing  supposed  to  be 
proved  cannot  be  expressed  without  recognizing  this  primordial 
act  as  valid;  since,  unless  we  accept  the  verdict  of  conscious- 
ness that  they  differ,  mendacity  and  trustworthiness  become 
identical.  Process  and  product  of  reasoning  both  disappear  in 
the  absence  of  this  assumption. 

It  may,  indeed,  be  often  shown  that  what,  after  careless  com- 
parison, were  supposed  to  be  like  states  of  consciousness,  are 
really  unlike ; or  that  what  were  carelessly  supposed  to  be  unlike, 
are  really  like.  But  how  is  this  shown?  Simply  by  a more 
careful  comparison,  mediately  or  immediately  made.  And  what 
does  acceptance  of  the  revised  conclusion  imply?  Simply  that 
a deliberate  verdict  of  consciousness  is  preferable  to  a rash  one ; 
or,  to  speak  more  definitely  — that  a consciousness  of  likeness 
or  difference  which  survives  critical  examination  must  be  accept- 
ed in  place  of  one  that  does  not  survive  — the  very  survival 
being  itself  the  acceptance. 

And  here  we  get  to  the  bottom  of  the  matter.  The  perma- 
nence of  a consciousness  of  likeness  or  difference  is  our  ultimate 
warrant  for  asserting  the  existence  of  likeness  or  difference; 
and,  in  fact,  we  mean  by  the  existence  of  likeness  or  difference, 
nothing  more  than  the  permanent  consciousness  of  it.  To  say 
that  a given  congruity  or  incongruity  exists,  is  simply  our  way 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


119 


of  saying  that  we  invariably  have  a consciousness  of  it  along 
with  a consciousness  of  the  compared  things.  We  know  nothing 
more  of  existence  than  a continued  manifestation. 

§ 42.  But  Philosophy  requires  for  its  datum  some  substan- 
tive proposition.  To  recognize  as  unquestionable  a certain  fun- 
damental process  of  thought,  is  not  enough;  we  must  recognize 
as  unquestionable  some  fundamental  product  of  thought,  reached 
by  this  process.  If  Philosophy  is  completely  unified  knowledge 
— if  the  unification  of  knowledge  is  to  be  effected  only  by 
showing  that  some  ultimate  proposition  includes  and  consolidates 
all  the  results  of  experience;  then,  clearly,  this  ultimate  propo- 
sition, which  has  to  be  proved  congruous  with  all  others,  must 
express  a piece  of  knowledge,  and  not  the  validity  of  an  act 
of  knowing.  Having  assumed  the  trustworthiness  of  conscious- 
ness, we  have  also  to  assiune  as  truthworthy  some  deliverance  of 
consciousness. 

What  must  this  be  ? Must  it  not  be  one  affirming  the  widest 
and  most  profound  distinction  which  things  present?  Must 
it  not  be  a statement  of  congruities  and  incongruities  more  gen- 
eral than  any  other?  An  ultimate  principle  that  is  to  unify 
all  experience  must  be  co-extensive  with  all  experience  — can- 
not be  concerned  with  experience  of  one  order  or  several  orders, 
but  must  be  concerned  with  universal  experience.  That  which 
Philosophy  takes  as  its  datum,  must  be  an  assertion  of  some 
likeness  and  difference  to  which  all  other  likenesses  and  dif- 
ferences are  secondary.  If  knowing  is  classifying,  or  group- 
ing the  like  and  separating  the  unlike;  and  if  the  unification 
of  knowledge  proceeds  by  arranging  the  smaller  classes  of  like 
experiences  within  the  larger,  and  these  within  the  still  larger; 
then,  the  proposition  by  which  knowledge  is  unified  must  be  one 
specifying  the  antithesis  between  two  ultimate  classes  of  ex- 
periences, in  'which  all  others  merge. 

Let  us  now  consider  what  these  classes  are.  In  drawing  the 
distinction  between  them,  we  cannot  avoid  using  words  that 
have  indirect  implications  wider  than  their  direct  meanings  — 
•we  cannot  avoid  arousing  thoughts  that  imply  the  very  dis- 
tinction which  it  is  the  object  of  the  analysis  to  establish. 
Keeping  this  fact  in  mind,  we  can  do  no  more  than  ignore  the 
connotations  of  the  words,  and  attend  only  to  the  things  they 
avowedly  denote. 


120 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


§ 43.  Setting  out  from  the  conclusion  lately  reached,  that 
all  tilings  known  to  us  are  manifestations  of  the  Unknowable; 
and  suppressing,  so  far  as  we  may,  every  hypothesis  respecting 
the  something  which  underlies  one  or  other  order  of  these  mani- 
festations; we  find  that  the  manifestations,  considered  simply 
as  such,  are  divisible  into  two  great  classes,  called  by  some 
impressions  and  ideas.  The  implications  of  these  words  are  apt 
to  vitiate  the  reasonings  of  those  who  use  the  words ; and  though 
it  may  be  possible  to  use  them  only  with  reference  to  the  differ- 
ential characteristics  they  are  meant  to  indicate,  it  is  best  to 
avoid  the  risk  of  making  unacknowledged  assumptions.  The 
term  sensation , too,  commonly  used  as  the  equivalent  of  impres- 
sion, implies  certain  psychological  theories  — tacitly,  if  not 
openly,  postulates  a sensitive  organism  and  something  acting 
upon  it;  and  can  scarcely  be  employed  without  bringing  these 
postulates  into  the  thoughts  and  embodying  them  in  the  in- 
ferences. Similarly,  the  phrase  state  of  consciousness , as  sig- 
nifying either  an  impression  or  an  idea,  is  objectionable.  As 
we  cannot  think  of  a state  without  thinking  of  something  of 
which  it  is  a state,  and  which  is  capable  of  different  states, 
there  is  involved  a foregone  conclusion  — an  undeveloped  sys- 
tem of  metaphysics.  Here,  accepting  the  inevitable  implica- 
tion that  the  manifestations  imply  something  manifested,  our 
aim  must  be  to  avoid  any  further  implications.  Though  we 
cannot  exclude  further  implications  from  our  thoughts,  and 
cannot  carry  on  our  argument  without  tacit  recognitions  of 
them,  we  can  at  any  rate  refuse  to  recognize  them  in  the  terms 
with  which  we  set  out.  We  may  do  this  most  effectually  by 
classing  the  manifestations  as  vivid  and  faint  respectively.  Let 
us  consider  what  are  the  several  distinctions  that  exist  between 
these. 

And  first  a.  few  words  on  this  most  conspicuous  distinction 
which  these  antithetical  names  imply.  Manifestations  that  oc- 
cur under  the  conditions  called  those  of  perception  ( and  the  con- 
ditions so  called  we  must  here,  as  much  as  possible,  separate 
from  all  hypotheses,  and  regard  simply  as  themselves  a certain 
group  of  manifestations)  are  ordinarily  far  more  distinct  than 
those  which  occur  under  the  conditions  known  as  those  of  re- 
flection, or  memory,  or  imagination,  or  ideation.  These  vivid 
manifestations  do,  indeed,  sometimes  differ  but  little  from  the 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


121 


faint  ones.  When  nearly  dark  we  may  be  unable  to  decide 
whether  a certain  manifestation  belongs  to  the  vivid  order  or 
the  faint  order  — whether,  as  we  say,  we  really  see  something  or 
fancy  we  see  it.  In  like  manner,  between  a very  feeble  sound 
and  the  imagination  of  a sound,  it  is  occasionally  difficult  to 
discriminate.  But  these  exceptional  cases  are  extremely  rare  in 
comparison  with  the  enormous  mass  of  cases  in  which,  from  in- 
stant to  instant,  the  vivid  manifestations  distinguish  themselves 
unmistakably  from  the  faint.  Conversely,  it  also  now  and  then 
happens  (though  under  conditions  which  we  significantly  distin- 
guish as  abnormal)  that  manifestations  of  the  faint  order  be- 
come so  strong  as  to  be  mistaken  for  those  of  the  vivid  order. 
Ideal  sights  and  sounds  are  in  the  insane  so  much  intensified 
as  to  be  classed  with  real  sights  and  sounds  — ideal  and  real 
being  here  supposed  to  imply  no  other  contrast  than  that  which 
we  are  considering.  These  cases  of  illusion,  as  we  call  them, 
bear,  however,  so  small  a ratio  to  the  great  mass  of  cases,  that 
we  may  safely  neglect  them,  and  say  that  the  relative  faintness 
of  these  manifestations  of  the  second  order  is  so  marked,  that 
we  are  never  in  doubt  as  to  their  distinctness  from  those  of 
the  first  order.  Or  if  we  recognize  the  exceptional  occurrence  of 
doubt,  the  recognition  serves  but  to  introduce  the  significant 
fact  that  we  have  other  means  of  determining  to  which  order 
a particular  manifestation  belongs,  when  the  test  of  comparative 
vividness  fails  us. 

Manifestations  of  the  vivid  order  precede,  in  our  experience, 
those  of  the  faint  order;  or,  in  the  terms  quoted  above,  the 
idea  is  an  imperfect  and  feeble  repetition  of  the  original  im- 
pression. To  put  the  facts  in  historical  sequence  — there  is  first 
a presented  manifestation  of  the  vivid  order,  and  then,  after- 
ward, there  may  come  a represented  manifestation  that  is  like 
it  except  in  being  much  less  distinct.  Besides  the  universal 
experience  that  after  having  those  vivid  manifestations  which 
we  call  particular  places  and  persons  and  things,  we  can  have 
those  faint  manifestations  which  we  call  recollections  of  the 
places,  persons,  and  things,  but  cannot  have  these  previously; 
and  besides  the  universal  experience  that  before  tasting  certain 
substances  and  smelling  certain  perfumes  we  are  without  the 
faint  manifestations  known,  as  ideas  of  their  tastes  and  smells; 
we  have  also  the  fact  that  where  certain  orders  of  the  vivid  mani- 


122 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


festations  are  shut  out  (as  the  visible  from  the  blind  and  the 
audible  from  the  deaf),  the  corresponding  faint  manifestations 
never  come  into  existence.  It  is  true  that  in  some  cases  the 
faint  manifestations  precede  the  vivid.  What  we  call  a con- 
ception of  a machine  may  presently  he  followed  by  a vivid 
manifestation  matching  it  — a so-called  actual  machine.  But 
in  the  first  place  this  occurrence  of  the  vivid  manifestation  after 
the  faint  has  no  analogy  with  the  occurrence  of  the  faint  after 
the  vivid  — its  sequence  is  not  spontaneous  like  that  of  the  idea 
after  the  impression.  And  in  the  second  place,  though  a faint 
manifestation  of  this  kind  may  occur  before  the  vivid  one  an- 
swering to  it,  yet  its  component  parts  may  not.  Without  the 
foregoing  vivid  manifestations  of  wheels  and  bars  and  cranks, 
the  inventor  could  have  no  faint  manifestation  of  his  new  ma- 
chine. Thus,  the  occurrence  of  the  faint  manifestations  is  made 
possible  by  the  previous  occurrence  of  the  vivid.  They  are 
distinguished  from  one  another  as  independent  and  dependent. 

These  two  orders  of  manifestations  form  concurrent  series; 
or  rather  let  us  call  them,  not  series,  which  implies  linear  ar- 
rangements, but  heterogeneous  streams  or  processions.  These 
run  side  by  side;  each  now  broadening  and  now  narrowing, 
each  now  threatening  to  obliterate  its  neighbor,  and  now  in  turn 
threatened  with  obliteration,  but  neither  ever  quite  excluding  the 
other  from  their  common  channel.  Let  us  watch  the  mutual 
actions  of  the  two  currents.  During  what  we  call  our  states 
of  activity,  the  vivid  manifestations  predominate.  We  simul- 
taneously receive  many  and  varied  presentations  — a crowd  of 
visual  impressions,  sounds  more  or  less  numerous,  resistances, 
tastes,  odors,  etc. ; some  groups  of  them  changing,  and  others 
temporarily  fixed,  but  altering  as  we  move;  and  when  we  com- 
pare in  its  breadth  and  massiveness  this  heterogeneous  combina- 
tion of  vivid  manifestations  with  the  concurrent  combination  of 
faint  manifestations,  these  last  sink  into  relative  insignificance. 
They  never  wholly  disappear  however.  Always  along  with  the 
vivid  manifestations,  even  in  their  greatest  obtrusiveness,  analy- 
sis discloses  a thread  of  thoughts  and  interpretations  constituted 
of  the  faint  manifestations.  Or  if  it  be  contended  that  the 
occurrence  of  a deafening  explosion  or  an  intense  pain  may  for 
a moment  exclude  every  idea,  it  must  yet  be  admitted  that  such 
breach  of  continuity  can  never  be  immediately  known  as  occur- 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


123 


ring;  since  the  act  of  knowing  is  impossible  in  the  absence  of 
ideas.  On  the  other  hand,  after  certain  vivid  manifestations 
which  we  call  the  acts  of  closing  the  eyes  and  adjusting  our- 
selves so  as  to  enfeeble  the  vivid  manifestations  of  pressure, 
sound,  etc.,  the  manifestations  of  the  faint  order  become  rela- 
tively predominant.  The  ever-varying  heterogeneous  current 
of  them,  no  longer  obscured  by  the  vivid  current,  grows  more 
distinct,  and  seems  almost  to  exclude  the  vivid  current.  But 
while  what  we  call  consciousness  continues,  the  current  of  vivid 
manifestations,  however  small  the  dimensions  to  which  it  is 
reduced,  still  continues : pressure  and  touch  do  not  wholly 
disappear.  It  is  only  on  lapsing  into  the  unconsciousness 
termed  sleep,  that  manifestations  of  the  vivid  order  cease  to  be 
distinguishable  as  such,  and  those  of  the  faint  order  come  to 
be  mistaken  for  them.  And  even  of  this  we  remain  unaware 
till  the  recurrence  of  manifestations  of  the  vivid  order  on  awak- 
ening : we  can  never  infer  that  manifestations  of  the  vivid  order 
have  been  absent,  until  they  are  again  present;  and  can  there- 
fore never  directly  know  them  to  be  absent.  Thus,  of  the  two 
concurrent  compound  series  of  manifestations,  each  preserves 
its  continuity.  As  they  flow  side  bjr  side,  each  trenches  on 
the  other,  but  there  never  comes  a moment  at  which  it  can  be 
said  that  the  one  has,  then  and  there,  broken  through  the  other. 

Besides  this  longitudinal  cohesion  there  is  a lateral  cohesion, 
both  of  the  vivid  to  the  vivid  and  of  the  faint  to  the  faint. 
The  components  of  the  vivid  series  are  bound  together  by  ties  of 
co-existence  as  wrell  as  by  ties  of  succession ; and  the  components 
of  the  faint  series  are  similarly  bound  together.  Between  the 
degrees  of  union  in  the  two  cases  there  are,  however,  marked 
and  very  significant  differences.  Let  us  observe  them.  Over  an 
area  occupying  part  of  the  so-called  field  of  view,  lights  and 
shades  and  colors  and  outlines  constitute  a group  to  which,  as 
the  signs  of  an  object,  we  give  a certain  name;  and  while  they 
continue  present,  these  united  vivid  manifestations  remain  in- 
separable. 'So,  too,  is  it  with  co-existing  groups  of  manifesta- 
tions : each  persists  as  a special  combination ; and  most  of 
them  preserve  unchanging  relations  with  those  around.  Such 
of  them  as  do  not  — such  of  them  as  are  capable  of  what  we 
call  independent  movements,  nevertheless  show  us  a constant 
connection  between  certain  of  the  manifestations  they  include. 


124 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


along  witli  a variable  connection  of  others.  And  though,  after 
certain  vivid  manifestations  known  as  a change  in  the  conditions 
of  perception,  there  is  a change  in  the  proportions  among  the 
vivid  manifestations  constituting  any  group,  their  cohesion  con- 
tinues — we  do  not  succeed  in  detaching  one  or  more  of  them 
from  the  rest.  Turning  to  the  faint  manifestations,  we  see  that 
while  there  are  lateral  cohesions  among  them,  these  are  much 
less  extensive,  and  in  most  cases  are  by  no  means  so  rigorous. 
After  closing  my  eyes,  I can  represent  an  object  now  standing 
in  a certain  place,  as  standing  in  some  other  place,  or  as  absent. 
While  1 look  at  a blue  vase,  I cannot  separate  the  vivid  manifes- 
tation of  blueness  from  the  vivid  manifestation  of  a particular 
shape;  but,  in  the  absence  of  these  vivid  manifestations,  I can 
separate  the  faint  manifestation  of  the  shape  from  the  faint 
manifestation  of  blueness,  and  replace  the  last  by  a faint  mani- 
festation of  redness.  It  is  so  throughout:  the  faint  manifes- 
tations cling  together  to  a certain  extent,  but  nevertheless  most  of 
them  may  be  rearranged  with  facility.  Indeed  none  of  the  in- 
dividual faint  manifestations  cohere  in  the  same  indissoluble 
way  as  do  the  individual  vivid  manifestations.  Though  along 
with  a faint  manifestation  of  pressure  there  is  always  some 
faint  manifestation  of  extension,  yet  no  particular  faint  mani- 
festation of  extension  is  bound  up  with  a particular  mani- 
festation of  pressure.  So  that  whereas  in  the  vivid  order  the 
individual  manifestations  cohere  indissolubly,  usually  in  large 
groups,  in  the  faint  order  the  individual  manifestations  none  of 
them  cohere  indissolubly,  and  are  most  of  them  loosely  aggre- 
gated : the  only  indissoluble  cohesions  among  them  being  between 
certain  of  their  generic  forms. 

While  the  components  of  each  current  cohere  with  one  an- 
other, they  do  not  cohere  at  all  strongly  with  those  of  the  other 
current.  Or,  more  correctly,  we  may  say  that  the  vivid  current 
habitually  flows  on  quite  undisturbed  by  the  faint  current ; and 
that  the  faint  current,  though  often  largely  determined  by  the 
vivid,  and  always  to  some  extent  carried  with  it,  may  yet  main- 
tain a substantial  independence,  letting  the  vivid  current  slide 
by.  We  will  glance  at  the  interactions  of  the  two.  The  suc- 
cessive faint  manifestations  constituting  thought,  fail  to  modify 
in  the  slightest  degree  the  vivid  manifestations  that  present 
themselves.  Omitting  a quite  peculiar  class  of  exceptions,  here- 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


125 


after  to  be  dealt  with,  the  vivid  manifestations,  fixed  and  chang- 
ing, are  not  directly  affected  by  the  faint.  Those  which  I distin- 
guish as  components  of  a landscape,  as  surgings  of  the  sea,  as 
whistlings  of  the  wind,  as  movements  of  vehicles  and  people, 
are  absolutely  uninfluenced  by  the  accompanying  faint  mani- 
festations which  I distinguish  as  my  ideas.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  current  of  faint  manifestations  is  always  somewhat  per- 
turbed by  the  vivid.  Frequently  it  consists  mainly  of  faint 
manifestations  which  cling  to  the  vivid  ones,  and  are  carried 
with  them  as  they  pass  — memories  and  suggestions  as  we  call 
them,  which,  joined  with  the  vivid  manifestations  producing 
them,  form  almost  the  whole  body  of  the  manifestations.  At 
other  times,  when,  as  we  say,  absorbed  in  thought,  the  disturb- 
ance of  the  faint  current  is  but  superficial.  The  vivid  mani- 
festations drag  after  them  such  few  faint  manifestations  only  as 
constitute  recognitions  of  them;  to  each  impression  adhere  cer- 
tain ideas  which  make  up  the  interpretation  of  it  as  such  or 
such.  But  there  meanwhile  flows  on  a main  stream  of  faint 
manifestations  wholly  unrelated  to  the  vivid  manifestations  — 
what  we  call  a reverie,  perhaps,  or  it  may  be  a process  of  reason- 
ing. And  occasionally,  during  the  state  known  as  absence  of 
mind,  this  current  of  faint  manifestations  so  far  predominates 
that  the  vivid  current  scarcely  affects  it  at  all.  Hence,  these 
concurrent  series  of  manifestations,  each  coherent  with  itself 
longitudinally  and  laterally,  have  but  a partial  coherence  with 
one  another.  The  vivid  series  is  quite  unmoved  by  its  passing 
neighbor;  and  though  the  faint  series  is  always  to  some  extent 
moved  by  the  adjacent  vivid  series,  and  is  often  carried  bodily 
along  with  the  vivid  series,  it  may  nevertheless  become  in  great 
measure  separate. 

Yet  another  all-important  differential  characteristic  has  to 
be  specified.  The  conditions  under  which  these  respective  orders 
of  manifestations  occur,  are  different;  and  the  conditions  of  oc- 
currence of  each  order  belong  to  itself.  Whenever  the  immediate 
antecedents  of  vivid  manifestations  are  traceable,  they  prove 
to  be  other  vivid  manifestations;  and  though  we  cannot  say 
that  the  antecedents  of  the  faint  manifestations  always  lie  wholly 
among  themselves,  yet  the  essential  ones  lie  wholly  among  them- 
selves. These  statements  will  need  a good  deal  of  explanation. 
Obviously,  changes  among  any  of  the  vivid  manifestations  we 


12G 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


are  contemplating  — the  motions  and  sounds  and  alterations 
of  appearance,  in  what  we  call  surrounding  objects  — are  either 
changes  that  follow  certain  vivid  manifestations,  or  changes  of 
which  the  antecedents  are  unapparent.  Some  of  the  vivid  man- 
ifestations, however,  occur  only  under  certain  conditions  that 
seem  to  be  of  another  order.  Those  which  we  know  as  colors 
and  visible  forms  presuppose  open  eyes.  But  what  is  the  open- 
ing of  the  eyes,  translated  into  the  terms  we  are  here  using? 
Literally  it  is  an  occurrence  of  certain  vivid  manifestations. 
The  preliminary  idea  of  opening  the  eyes  does,  indeed,  con- 
sist of  faint  manifestations,  but  the  act  of  opening  them  consists 
of  vivid  manifestations.  And  the  like  is  still  more  conspicuously 
the  case  with  those  movements  of  the  eyes  and  the  head  which 
are  followed  by  new  groups  of  vivid  manifestations.  Similarly 
with  the  antecedents  to  the  vivid  manifestations  which  Ave  dis- 
tinguish as  those  of  touch  and  pressure.  All  the  changeable  ones 
have  for  their  conditions  of  occurrence  certain  vivid  manifesta- 
tions which  we  know  as  sensations  of  muscular  tension.  It  is 
true  that  the  conditions  to  these  conditions  are  manifestations  of 
the  faint  order  — those  ideas  of  muscular  actions  which  precede 
muscular  actions.  And  we  are  here  introduced  to  a complication 
arising  from  the  fact  that  what  is  called  the  body,  is  present  to 
us  as  a set  of  vivid  manifestations  connected  with  the  faint 
manifestations  in  a special  way  — a way  such  that  in  it  alone 
certain  vivid  manifestations  are  capable  of  being  produced  by 
faint  manifestations.  There  must  be  named,  too,  the  kindred 
exception  furnished  by  the  emotions  — an  exception  which,  how- 
ever, serves  to  enforce  the  general  proposition.  For  while  it  is 
true  that  the  emotions  are  to  be  considered  as  a certain  kind 
of  vivid  manifestations,  and  are  yet  capable  of  being  produced  by 
the  faint  manifestations  we  call  ideas ; it  is  also  true  that  because 
the  conditions  to  their  occurrence  thus  exist  among  the  faint 
manifestations,  we  class  them  as  belonging  to  the  same  general 
aggregate  as  the  faint  manifestations  — do  not  class  them  with 
such  other  vivid  manifestations  as  colors,  sounds,  pressures, 
smells,  etc.  But  omitting  these  peculiar  vivid  manifestations 
which  we  know  as  muscular  tensions  and  emotions,  and  which 
we  habitually  class  apart,  we  may  say  of  all  the  rest,  that  the 
conditions  to  their  existence  as  vivid  manifestations  are  mani- 
festations belonging  to  their  own  class.  In  the  parallel  current 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


127 


we  find  a parallel  truth.  Though  many  manifestations  of  the 
faint  order  are  partly  caused  by  manifestations  of  the  vivid 
order,  which  call  up  memories  as  we  say,  and  suggest  infer- 
ences ; yet  these  results  mainly  depend  on  certain  antecedents  be- 
longing to  the  faint  order.  A cloud  drifts  across  the  sun,  and 
may  or  may  not  produce  an  effect  on  the  current  of  ideas:  the 
inference  that  it  is  about  to  rain  may  arise,  or  there  may  be  a 
persistence  in  the  previous  train  of  thought  — a difference  ob- 
viously determined  by  conditions  among  the  thoughts.  Again, 
such  power  as  a vivid  manifestation  has  of  causing  certain  faint 
manifestations  to  arise,  depends  on  the  pre-existence  of  cer- 
tain appropriate  faint  manifestations.  If  I have  never  heard 
a curlew,  the  cry  which  an  unseen  one  makes,  fails  to  produce  an 
idea  of  the  bird.  And  we  have  but  to  remember  what  various 
trains  of  reflection  are  aroused  by  the  same  sight,  to  see  how 
essentially  the  occurrence  of  each  faint  manifestation  depends 
on  its  relations  to  other  faint  manifestations  that  have  gone 
before  or  that  co-exist. 

Here  we  are  introduced,  lastly,  to  one  of  the  most  striking, 
and  perhaps  the  most  important,  of  the  differences  between  those 
two  orders  of  manifestations  — a difference  continuous  with  that 
just  pointed  out,  but  one  which  may  with  advantage  be  sep- 
arately insisted  upon.  The  conditions  of  occurrence  are  not  dis- 
tinguished solely  by  the  fact  that  each  set,  when ‘identifiable, 
belongs  to  its  own  order  of  manifestations ; but  they  are  further 
distinguished  in  a very  significant  way.  Manifestations  of  the 
faint  order  have  traceable  antecedents ; can  be  made  to  occur 
by  establishing  their  conditions  of  occurrence;  and  can  be  sup- 
pressed b}r  establishing  other  conditions.  But  manifestations  of 
the  vivid  order  continually  occur  without  previous  presentation 
of  their  antecedents;  and  in  many  cases  they  persist  or  cease, 
under  either  known  or  unknown  conditions,  in  such  way  as  to 
show  that  their  conditions  are  wholly  beyond  control.  The 
impression  distinguished  as  a flash  of  lightning,  breaks  across 
the  current  of  our  thoughts,  absolutely  without  notice.  The 
sounds  from  a band  that  strikes  up  in  the  street  or  from  a 
crash  of  china  in  the  next  room,  are  not  connected  with  any 
of  the  previously-present  manifestations,  either  of  the  faint  or 
of  the  vivid  order.  Often  these  vivid  manifestations,  arising 
unexpectedly,  persist  in  thrusting  themselves  across  the  current 


128 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


of  the  faint  ones ; which  not  only  cannot  directly  affect  them,  but 
cannot  even  indirectly  affect  them.  A wound  produced  by  a 
violent  blow  from  behind,  is  a vivid  manifestation  the  condi- 
tions of  occurrence  of  which  were  neither  among  the  faint  nor 
among  the  vivid  manifestations;  and  the  conditions  to  the  per- 
sistence of  which  are  bound  up  with  the  vivid  manifestations 
in  some  unmanifested  way.  So  that  whereas  in  the  faint  order, 
the  conditions  of  occurrence  are  always  among  the  pre-existing 
or  co-existing  manifestations;  in  the  vivid  order,  the  conditions 
of  occurrence  are  often  not  present. 

Thus  we  find  many  salient  characters  in  which  manifesta- 
tions of  the  one  order  are  like  one  another,  and  unlike  those 
of  the  other  order.  Let  us  briefly  re-enumerate  these  salient 
characters.  Manifestations  of  the  one  order  are  vivid  and  those 
of  the  other  are  faint.  Those  of  the  one  order  are  originals, 
while  those  of  the  other  order  are  copies.  The  first  form  with 
one  another  a series,  or  heterogeneous  current,  that  is  never 
broken ; and  the  second  also  form  with  one  another  a parallel 
series  or  current  that  is  never  broken;  or,  to  speak  strictly,  no 
breakage  of  either  is  ever  directly  known.  Those  of  the  first 
order  cohere  with  one  another,  not  only  longitudinally  but  also 
transversely;  as  do  also  those  of  the  second  order  with  one  an- 
other. Between  manifestations  of  the  first  order  the  cohesions, 
both  longitudinal  and  transverse,  are  indissoluble;  but  between 
manifestations  of  the  second  order,  these  cohesions  are  most  of 
them  dissoluble  with  ease.  While  the  members  of  each  series  or 
current  are  so  coherent  with  one  another  that  the  current  can- 
not be  broken,  the  two  currents,  running  side  by  side  as  they  do, 
have  but  little  coherence  — the  great  body  of  the  vivid  current 
is  absolutely  unmodifiable  by  the  faint,  and  the  faint  may  become 
almost  separate  from  the  vivid.  The  conditions  under  which 
manifestations  of  either  order  occur,  themselves  belong  to  that 
order;  but  whereas  in  the  faint  order,  the  conditions  are  always 
present,  in  the  vivid  order  the  conditions  are  often  not  present, 
but  lie  somewhere  outside  of  the  series.  Seven  separate  charac- 
ters, then,  mark  off  these  two  orders  of  manifestations  from  one 
another. 

§ 44.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this?  The  foregoing  analy- 
sis was  commenced  in  the  belief  that  the  proposition  postulated 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


129 


by  Philosophy,  must  affirm  some  ultimate  classes  of  likenesses 
and  unlikenesses,  in  which  all  other  classes  merge;  and  here 
we  have  found  that  all  manifestations  of  the  Unknowable  are 
divisible  into  two  such  classes.  What  is  the  division  equiva- 
lent to  ? 

Obviously  it  corresponds  to  the  division  between  object  and 
subject.  This  profoundest  of  distinctions  among  the  manifes- 
tations of  the  Unknowable,  we  recognize  by  grouping  them  into 
self  and  not-self.  These  faint  manifestations,  forming  a con- 
tinuous whole  differing  from  the  other  in  the  quantity,  quality, 
cohesion,  and  conditions  of  existence  of  its  parts,  we  call  the 
ego ; and  these  vivid  manifestations,  indissolubly  bound  together 
in  relatively-immense  masses,  and  having  independent  condi- 
tions of  existence,  we  call  the  non-ego.  Or  rather,  more  truly  — 
each  order  of  manifestations  carries  with  it  the  irresistible  im- 
plication of  some  power  that  manifests  itself ; and  by  the  words 
ego  and  non-ego  respectively,  we  mean  the  power  that  manifests 
itself  in  the  faint  forms,  and  the  power*  that  manifests  itself  in 
the  vivid  forms. 

As  we  here  see,  these  consolidated  conceptions  thus  antitheti- 
cally named,  do  not  originate  in  some  inscrutable  way;  but 
they  have  for  their  explanation  the  ultimate  law  of  thought 
that  is  beyond  appeal.  The  persistent  consciousness  of  likeness 
or  difference,  is  one  which,  by  its  very  persistence,  makes  itself 
accepted,  and  one  which  transcends  scepticism,  since  without  it 
even  doubt  becomes  impossible.  And  the  primordial  division 
of  self  from  not-self,  is  a cumulative  result  of  persistent  con- 
sciousnesses of  likenesses  and  differences  among  manifestations. 
Indeed,  thought  exists  only  through  that  kind  of  act  which  leads 
us,  from  moment  to  moment,  to  refer  certain  manifestations 
to  the  one  class  with  which  they  have  so  many  connnon  attributes, 
and  others  to  the  other  class  with  which  they  have  common  at- 
tributes equally  numerous.  And  the  myriad-fold  repetition  of 
these  classings,  bringing  about  the  myriad-fold  associations  of 
each  manifestation  with  those  of  its  own  class,  brings  about 
this  union  among  the  members  of  each  class,  and  this  disunion 
of  the  two  classes. 

Strictly  speaking,  this  segregation  of  the  manifestations  and 
coalescence  of  them  into  two  distinct  wholes,  is  in  great  part 
spontaneous,  and  precedes  all  deliberate  judgments ; though  it  is 


130 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


indorsed  by  such  judgments  when  they  come  to  be  made.  For 
the  manifestations  of  each  order  have  not  simply  that  kind  of 
union  implied  by  grouping  them  as  individual  objects  of  the 
same  class;  but,  as  we  have  seen,  they  have  the  much  more 
intimate  union  implied  by  actual  cohesion.  This  cohesive  un- 
ion exhibits  itself  before  any  conscious  acts  of  classing  take 
place.  So  that,  in  truth,  these  two  contrasted  orders  of  mani- 
festations are  substantially  self-separated  and  self-consolidated. 
The  members  of  each,  by  clinging  to  one  another  and  parting 
from  their  opposites,  themselves  form  these  united  wholes  con- 
stituting object  and  subject.  It  is  this  self-union  which  gives 
to  these  wholes  formed  of  them,  their  individualities  as  wholes, 
and  that  separateness  from  each  other  which  transcends  judg- 
ment; and  judgment  merely  aids  the  predetermined  segregation 
by  assigning  to  their  respective  classes  such  manifestations  as 
have  not  distinctly  united  themselves  with  the  rest  of  their 
kind. 

One  further  perpetually  repeated  act  of  judgment  there  is, 
indeed,  which  strengthens  this  fundamental  antithesis,  and  gives 
a vast  extension  to  one  term  of  it.  We  continually  learn  that 
while  the  conditions  of  occurrence  of  faint  manifestations  are 
always  to  be  found,  the  conditions  of  occurrence  of  vivid  mani- 
festations are  often  not  to  be  found.  We  also  continually  learn 
that  • vivid  manifestations  which  have  no  perceivable  antece- 
dents among  the  vivid  manifestations  are  like  certain  preceding 
ones  which  had  perceivable  antecedents  among  the  vivid  mani- 
festations. Joining  these  two  experiences  together,  there  re- 
sults the  irresistible  conception  that  some  vivid  manifestations 
have  conditions  of  occurrence  existing  out  of  the  current  of  vivid 
manifestations  — existing  as  potential  vivid  manifestations  ca- 
pable of  becoming  actual.  And  so  we  are  made  vaguely  con- 
scious of  an  indefinitely-extended  region  of  power  or  being,  not 
merely  separate  from  the  current  of  faint  manifestations  con- 
stituting the  ego,  but  lying  beyond  the  current  of  vivid  mani- 
festations constituting  the  immediately-present  portion  of  the 
non-ego. 

§ 45.  In  a very  imperfect  way,  passing  over  objections  and 
omitting  needful  explanations,  I have  thus,  in  the  narrow  space 
that  could  properly  be  devoted  to  it,  indicated  the  essential 


THE  DATA  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


131 


nature  and  justification  of  that  primordial  proposition  which 
Philosophy  requires  as  a datum.  I might,  indeed,  safely  have 
assumed  this  ultimate  truth;  which  Common  Sense  asserts, 
which  every  step  in  Science  takes  for  granted,  and  which  no 
metaphysician  ever  for  a moment  succeeded  in  expelling  from 
consciousness.  Setting  out  with  the  postulate  that  the  mani- 
festations of  the  Unknowable  fall  into  the  two  separate  aggre- 
gates constituting  the  world  of  consciousness  and  the  world 
beyond  consciousness,  I might  have  let  the  justification  of  this 
postulate  depend  on  its  subsequently-proved  congruity  with  every 
result  of  experience,  direct  and  indirect.  But  as  all  that  follows 
proceeds  upon  this  postulate,  it  seemed  desirable  briefly  to 
indicate  its  warrant,  with  the  view  of  shutting  out  criticisms 
that  might  else  be  made.  It  seemed  desirable  to  show  that  this 
fundamental  cognition  is  neither,  as  the  idealist  asserts,  an 
illusion,  nor  as  the  sceptic  thinks,  of  doubtful  worth,  nor  as  is 
held  by  the  natural  realist,  an  inexjflicable  intuition;  but  that 
it  is  a legitimate  deliverance  of  consciousness  elaborating  its 
materials  after  the  laws  of  its  normal  action.  While,  in  order 
of  time,  the  establishment  of  this  distinction  precedes  all  reason- 
ing; and  while,  running  through  our  mental  structure  as  it 
does,  we  are  debarred  from  reasoning  about  it  without  taking 
for  granted  its  existence;  analysis  nevertheless  enables  us  to 
justify  the  assertion  of  its  existence,  by  showing  that  it  is  also 
the  outcome  of  a classification  based  on  accumulated  likenesses 
and  accumulated  differences.  In  other  words  — Eeasoning, 
which  is  itself  but  a formation  of  cohesions  among  manifesta- 
tions, here  strengthens,  by  the  cohesions  it  forms,  the  cohesions 
which  it  finds  already  existing. 

So  much,  then,  for  the  data  of  Philosophy.  In  common  with 
Religion,  Philosophy  assumes  the  jmimordial  implication  of  con- 
sciousness, which,  as  we  saw  in  the  last  part,  has  the  deepest 
of  all  foundations.  It  assumes  the  validity  of  a certain 
primordial  process  of  consciousness,  without  which  inference  is 
impossible,  and  without  which  there  cannot  even  be  either 
affirmation  or  denial.  And  it  assumes  the  validity  of  a certain 
primordial  product  of  consciousness,  which,  though  it  originates 
in  an  earlier  process,  is  also,  in  one  sense,  a product  of  this 
process,  since  by  this  process  it  is  tested  and  stamped  as  genuine. 
In  brief,  our  postulates  are; — an  Unknowable  Power;  the 


132 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


existence  of  knowable  likenesses  and  differences  among  the 
manifestations  of  that  Power;  and  a resulting  segregation  of 
the  manifestations  into  those  of  subject  and  object. 

Before  proceeding  with  the  substantial  business  of  Philosophy 
— the  complete  unification  of  the  knowledge  partially  unified 
by  Science,  a further  preliminary  is  needed.  The  manifestations 
of  the  Unknowable,  separated  into  the  two  divisions  of  self 
and  not-self,  are  indivisible  into  certain  most  general  forms, 
the  reality  of  which  Science,  as  well  as  Common  Sense,  from 
moment  to  moment  assumes.  In  the  chapter  on  “ Ultimate 
Scientific  Ideas,”  it  was  shown  that  we  know  nothing  of  these 
forms,  considered  in  themselves.  As,  nevertheless,  we  must 
continue  to  use  the  words  signifying  them,  it  is  needful  to  say 
what  interpretations  are  to  be  put  on  these  words. 


SPACE,  TIME,  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE 


133 


CHAPTER  III. 

SPACE,  TIME,  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE. 

§ 46.  That  sceptical  state  of  mind  Minch,  the  criticisms  of 
Philosophy  usually  produce,  is,  in  great  measure,  caused  by 
the  misinterpretation  of  words.  A sense  of  universal  illusion 
ordinarily  follows  the  reading  of  metaphysics;  and  is  strong 
in  proportion  as  the  argument  has  appeared  conclusive.  This 
sense  of  universal  illusion  would  probably  never  have  arisen, 
had  the  terms  used  been  always  rightly  construed.  Unfor- 
tunately, these  terms  have  by  association  acquired  meanings  that 
are  quite  different  from  those  given  to  them  in  philosophical 
discussions;  and  the  ordinary  meanings  being  unavoidably  sug- 
gested, there  results  more  or  less  of  that  dream-like  idealism 
which  is  so  incongruous  with  our  instinctive  convictions.  The 
word  'phenomenon  and  its  equivalent  word  appearance , are  in 
great  part  to  blame  for  this.  In  ordinary  speech,  these  are 
uniformly  employed  in  reference  to  visual  perceptions.  Habit, 
almost,  if  not  quite,  disables  us  from  thinking  of  appearance 
except  as  something  seen;  and  though  phenomenon  has  a more 
generalized  meaning,  yet  we  cannot  rid  it  of  associations  with 
appearance , which  is  its  verbal  equivalent.  When,  therefore. 
Philosophy  proves  that  our  knowledge  of  the  external  world 
can  be  but  phenomenal  — when  it  concludes  that  the  things 
of  which  we  are  conscious  are  appearances ; it  inevitably  arouses 
in  us  the  notion  of  an  illusiveness  like  that  to  which  our  visual 
perceptions  are  so  liable  in  comparison  with  our  tactual  per- 
ceptions. Good  pictures  show  us  that  the  aspects  of  things 
may  be  very  nearly  simulated  by  colors  on  canvas.  The  looking- 
glass  still  more  distinctly  proves  how  deceptive  is  sight  when 
unverified  by  touch.  And  the  frequent  cases  in  which  we 
misinterpret  the  impressions  made  on  our  eyes,  and  think  we 
see  something  which  we  do  not  see,  further  shake  our  faith  in 
vision.  So  that  the  implication  of  uncertainty  has  infected 


134 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  very  word  appearance.  Hence,  Philosophy,  by  giving  it  an 
extended  meaning,  leads  us  to  think  of  all  our  senses  as 
deceiving  us  in  the  same  way  that  eyes  do;  and  so  makes  us 
feel  ourselves  floating  in  a world  of  phantasms.  Had  phe- 
nomenon and  appearance  no  such  misleading  associations,  little, 
if  an}*,  of  this  mental  confusion  would  result.  Or  did  we  in 
place  of  them  use  the  term  effect , which  is  equally  applicable 
to  all  impressions  produced  on  consciousness  through  any  of 
the  senses,  and  which  carries  with  it  in  thought  the  necessary 
correlative  cause,  with  which  it  is  equally  real,  we  should  be  in 
little  danger  of  falling  into  the  insanities  of  idealism. 

Such  danger  as  there  might  still  remain  would  disappear 
on  making  a further  verbal  correction.  At  present,  the  con- 
fusion resulting  from  the  above  misinterpretation,  is  made 
greater  by  an  antithetical  misinterpretation.  We  increase  the 
seeming  unreality  of  that  phenomenal  existence  which  we  can 
alone  know,  by  contrasting  it  with  a noumenal  existence  which 
we  imagine  would,  if  we  could  know  it,  be  more  truly  real  to 
us.  But  we  delude  ourselves  with  a verbal  fiction.  What  is 
the  meaning  of  the  word  real ? This  is  the  question  which 
underlies  every  metaphysical  inquiry;  and  the  neglect  of  it  is 
the  remaining  cause  of  the  chronic  antagonisms  of  metaphysi- 
cians. In  the  interpretation  put  on  the  word  real,  the  dis- 
cussions of  philosophy  retain  one  element  of  the  vulgar 
conception  of  things,  while  they  reject  all  its  other  elements; 
and  create  confusion  by  the  inconsistency.  The  peasant,  on 
contemplating  an  object,  does  not  regard  that  which  he  con- 
templates as  something  in  himself,  but  believes  the  thing 
of  which  he  is  conscious  to  be  the  external  object  — imagines 
that  his  consciousness  extends  to  the  very  place  where  the 
object  lies:  to  him  the  appearance  and  the  reality  are  one 
and  the  same  thing.  The  metaphysician,  however,  is  convinced 
that  consciousness  cannot  embrace  the  reality,  but  only  the 
appearance  of  it;  and  so  he  transfers  the  appearance  into 
consciousness  and  leaves  the  reality  outside.  This  reality  left 
outside  of  consciousness,  he  continues  to  think  of  much  in  the 
same  way  as  the  ignorant  man  thinks  of  the  appearance.  Though 
the  reality  is  asserted  to  be  out  of  consciousness,  yet  the 
realness  ascribed  to  it  is  constantly  spoken  of  as  though  it  were 
a knowledge  possessed  apart  from  consciousness.  It  seems  to 


SPACE,  TIME,  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE 


135 


be  forgotten  that  the  conception  of  reality  can  be  nothing 
more  than  some  mode  of  consciousness;  and  that  the  question 
to  be  considered  is  — What  is  the  relation  between  this  mode 
and  other  modes  ? 

By  reality  we  mean  persistence  in  consciousness : a persistence 
that  is  either  unconditional,  as  our  consciousness  of  space,  or 
that  is  conditional,  as  our  consciousness  of  a body  while  grasp- 
ing it.  The  real,  as  we  conceive  it,  is  distinguished  solely  by 
the  test  of  persistence;  for  by  this  test  we  separate  it  from 
what  we  call  the  unreal.  Between  a person  standing  before  us, 
and  the  idea  of  such  a person,  we  discriminate  by  our  ability 
to  expel  the  idea  from  consciousness,  and  our  inability,  while 
looking  at  him,  to  expel  the  person  from  consciousness.  And 
when  in  doubt  as  to  the  validity  or  illusiveness  of  some  im- 
pression made  upon  us  in  the  dusk,  we  settle  the  matter  by 
observing  whether  the  impression  persists  on  closer  observation; 
and  we  predicate  reality  if  the  persistence  is  complete.  How 
truly  persistence  is  what  we  mean  by  reality,  is  shown  in  the 
fact  that  when,  after  criticism  has  proved  that  the  real  as  we 
are  conscious  of  it  is  not  the  objectively  real,  the  indefinite 
notion  which  we  form  of  the  objectively  real,  is  of  something 
which  persists  absolutely,  under  all  changes  of  mode,  form, 
or  appearance.  And  the  fact  that  we  cannot  form  even  an 
indefinite  notion  of  the  absolutely  real,  except  as  the  absolutely 
persistent,  clearly  implies  that  persistence  is  our  ultimate  test 
of  the  real  as  present  to  consciousness. 

Beality  then,  as  we  think  it,  being  nothing  more  than  per- 
sistence in  consciousness,  the  result  must  be  the  same  to  us 
whether  that  which  we  perceive  be  the  Unknowable  itself, 
or  an  effect  invariably  wrought  on  us  by  the  Unknowable. 
If,  under  the  constant  conditions  furnished  by  our  constitutions, 
some  Power  of  which  the  nature  is  beyond  conception,  always 
produces  some  mode  of  consciousness  — if  this  mode  of  con- 
sciousness is  as  persistent  as  would  be  this  Power  were  it  in 
consciousness;  the  reality  will  be  to  consciousness  as  complete 
in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  Were  Unconditioned  Being- 
itself  present  in  thought,  it  could  but  be  persistent;  and  if, 
instead,  there  is  present  Being  conditioned  by  the  forms  of 
thought,  but  no  less  persistent,  it  must  be  to  us  no  less  real. 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


13G 


Hence  there  may  be  drawn  these  conclnsions: — First,  that 
we  have  an  indefinite  consciousness  of  an  absolute  reality  tran- 
scending relations,  which  is  produced  by  the  absolute  persistence 
in  us  of  something  which  survives  all  changes  of  relation. 
Second,  that  we  have  a definite  consciousness  of  relative  reality, 
which  unceasingly  persists  in  us  under  one  or  other  of  its 
forms,  and  under  each  form  so  long  as  the  conditions  of 
presentation  are  fulfilled;  and  that  the  relative  reality,  being 
thus  continuously  persistent  in  us,  is  as  real  to  us  as  would  be 
the  absolute  reality  could  it  be  immediately  known.  Third, 
that  thought  being  possible  only  under  relation,  the  relative 
reality  can  be  conceived  as  such  only  in  connection  with  an 
absolute  reality;  and  the  connection  between  the  two  being 
absolutely  persistent  in  our  consciousness,  is  real  in  the  same 
sense  as  the  terms  it  unites  are  real. 

Thus  then  we  may  resume,  with  entire  confidence,  those 
realistic  conceptions  which  philosophy  at  first  sight  seems  to 
dissipate.  Though  reality  under  the  forms  of  our  consciousness, 
is  but  a conditioned  effect  of  the  absolute  reality,  yet  this 
conditioned  effect  standing  in  indissoluble  relation  with  its 
imconditioned  cause,  and  being  equally  persistent  with  it  so 
long  as  the  conditions  persist,  is,  to  the  consciousness  supplying 
those  conditions,  equally  real.  The  persistent  impressions  being 
the  persistent  results  of  a persistent  cause,  are  for  practical 
purposes  the  same  to  us  as  the  cause  itself;  and  may  be 
habitually  dealt  with  as  its  equivalents.  Somewhat  in  the 
same  way  that  our  visual  perceptions,  though  merely  symbols 
found  to  be  the  equivalents  of  tactual  perceptions,  are  yet  so 
identified  with  those  tactual  perceptions  that  we  actually  appear 
to  see  the  solidity  and  hardness  which  we  do  but  infer,  and 
thus  conceive  as  objects  what  are  only  the  signs  of  objects ; so, 
on  a higher  stage,  do  we  deal  with  these  relative  realities  as 
though  they  were  absolutes  instead  of  effects  of  the  absolute. 
And  we  may  legitimately  continue  so  to  deal  with  them  as 
long  as  the  conclusions  to  which  they  help  us  are  understood 
as  relative  realities  and  not  absolute  ones. 

This  general  conclusion  it  now  remains  to  interpret  specific- 
ally, in  its  application  to  each  of  our  ultimate  scientific  ideas. 


SPACE,  TIME,  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE 


137 


§ 47.1  We  think  in  relations.  This  is  truly  the  form  of 
all  thought;  and  if  there  are  any  other  forms,  they  must  be 
derived  from  this.  We  have  seen  (Chap.  iii.  Part  I.)  that 
the  several  ultimate  modes  of  being  cannot  be  known  or  con- 
ceived as  they  exist  in  themselves;  that  is,  out  of  relation  to 
our  consciousness.  We  have  seen,  by  analyzing  the  product 
of  thought  (§  23),  that  it  always  consists  of  relations ; and 
cannot  include  anything  beyond  the  most  general  of  these. 
On  analyzing  the  process  of  thought,  we  found  that  cognition 
of  the  Absolute  was  impossible,  because  it  presented  neither 
relation , nor  its  elements  — difference  and  likeness.  Further, 
we  found  that  not  only  Intelligence  but  Life  itself,  consists 
in  the  establishment  of  internal  relations  in  correspondence 
with  external  relations.  And  lastly,  it  was  shown  that  though 
by  the  relativity  of  our  thought  we  are  eternally  debarred  from 
knowing  or  conceiving  Absolute  Being ; yet  that  this  very 
relativity  of  our  thought,  necessitates  that  vague  consciousness 
of  Absolute  Being  which  no  mental  effort  can  suppress.  That 
relation  is  the  universal  form  of  thought,  is  thus  a truth  which 
all  kinds  of  demonstration  unite  in  proving. 

By  the  transcendentalists,  certain  other  phenomena  of  con- 
sciousness are  regarded  as  forms  of  thought.  Presuming  that 
relation  would  be  admitted  by  them  to  be  a universal  mental 
form,  they  would  class  with  it  two  others  as  also  universal. 
Were  their  hypothesis  otherwise  tenable,  however,  it  must  still 
be  rejected  if  such  alleged  further  forms  are  interpretable  as 
generated  by  the  primary  form.  If  we  think  in  relations,  and 
if  relations  have  certain  universal  forms,  it  is  manifest  that 
such  universal  forms  of  relations  will  become  universal  forms 
of  our  consciousness.  And  if  these  further  universal  forms 
are  thus  explicable,  it  is  superfluous,  and  therefore  unphilo- 
sophical,  to  assign  them  an  independent  origin.  How  relations 
are  of  two  orders  — ■ relations  of  sequence,  and  relations  of  co- 
existence; of  which  the  one  is  original  and  the  other  derivative. 
The  relation  of  sequence  is  given  in  every  change  of  con- 
sciousness. The  relation  of  co-existence,  wdiich  cannot  be 
originally  given  in  a consciousness  of  which  the  states  are 

1For  the  psychological  conclusions  briefly  set  forth  in  this  and  the 
three  sections  following  it.  the  justification  will  be  found  in  the  writer’s 
“ Principles  of  Psychology.” 


138 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


serial,  becomes  distinguished  only  when  it  is  found  that  certain 
relations  of  sequence  have  their  terms  presented  in  conscious- 
ness in  either  order  with  equal  facility;  while  the  others  are 
presented  only  in  one  order.  Relations  of  which  the  terms  are 
not  reversible,  become  recognized  as  sequences  proper;  while 
relations  of  which  the  terms  occur  indifferently  in  both  direc- 
tions, become  recognized  as  co-existences.  Endless  experiences, 
which  from  moment  to  moment  present  both  orders  of  these 
relations,  render  the  distinction  between  them  perfectly  def- 
inite; and  at  the  same  time  generate  an  abstract  conception  of 
each.  The  abstract  of  all  sequences  is  Time.  The  abstract 
of  all  co-existences  is  Space.  From  the  fact  that  in  thought, 
Time  is  inseparable  from  sequence,  and  Space  from  co-existence, 
we  do  not  here  infer  that  Time  and  Space  are  original  condi- 
tions of  consciousness  under  which  sequences  and  co-existences 
are  known;  but  we  infer  that  our  conceptions  of  Time  and 
Space  are  generated,  as  other  abstracts  are  generated  from 
other  concretes : the  only  difference  being,  that  the  organization 
of  experiences  has,  in  these  cases,  been  going  on  throughout 
the  entire  evolution  of  intelligence. 

This  synthesis  is  confirmed  by  analysis.  Our  consciousness 
of  Space  is  a consciousness  of  co-existent  positions.  Any  limited 
portion  of  space  can  be  conceived  only  by  representing  its 
limits  as  co-existing  in  certain  relative  positions;  and  each 
of  its  imagined  boundaries,  be  it  line  or  plane,  can  be  thought 
of  in  no  other  way  than  as  made  up  of  co-existent  positions  in 
close  proximity.  And  since  a position  is  not  an  entity  — since 
the  congeries  of  positions  which  constitute  any  conceived  por- 
tion of  space,  and  mark  its  bounds,  are  not  sensible  existences; 
it  follows  that  the  co-existent  positions  which  make  up  our 
consciousness  of  Space,  are  not  co-existences  in  the  full  sense 
of  the  word  (which  implies  realities  as  their  terms),  but  are 
the  blank  forms  of  co-existences,  left  behind  when  the  realities 
are  absent;  that  is,  are  the  abstracts  of  co-existences.  The 
experiences  out  of  which,  during  the  evolution  of  intelligence, 
this  abstract  of  all  co-existences  has  been  generated,  are  experi- 
ences of  individual  positions  as  ascertained  by  touch;  and  each 
of  such  experiences  involves  the  resistance  of  an  object  touched, 
and  the  muscular  tension  which  measures  this  resistance.  By 
countless  unlike  muscular  adjustments,  involving  unlike  muscu- 


SPAGE,  TIME,  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE 


139 


lar  tensions,  different  resisting  positions  are  disclosed;  and 
these,  as  they  can  be  experienced  in  one  order  as  readily  as 
another,  we  regard  as  co-existing.  But  since,  under  other 
circumstances,  the  same  muscular  adjustments  do  not  produce 
contact  with  resisting  positions,  there  result  the  same  states 
of  consciousness,  minus  the  resistances  — blank  forms,  of  co- 
existence from  which  the  co-existent  objects  before  experienced 
are  absent.  And  from  a building  up  of  these,  too  elaborate 
to  be  here  detailed,  results  that  abstract  of  all  relations  of 
co-existence  which  we  call  Space.  It  remains  only  to  point  out, 
as  a thing  which  we  must  not  forget,  that  the  experiences 
from  which  the  consciousness  of  Space  arises,  are  experiences 
of  force.  A certain  correlation  of  the  muscular  forces  we  our- 
selves exercise,  is  the  index  of  each  position  as  originally 
disclosed  to  us;  and  the  resistance  which  makes  us  aware  of 
something  existing  in  that  position,  is  an  equivalent  of  the 
pressure  we  consciously  exert.  Thus,  experiences  of  forces 
variously  correlated,  are  those  from  which  our  consciousness 
of  Space  is  abstracted. 

That  which  we  know  as  Space  being  thus  shown,  alike  by 
its  genesis  and  definition,  to  be  purely  relative,  what  are  we 
to  say  of  that  which  causes  it?  Is  there  an  absolute  Space 
which  relative  Space  in  some  sort  represents?  Is  Space  in 
itself  a form  or  condition  of  absolute  existence,  producing  in 
our  minds  a corresponding  form  or  condition  of  relative  exist- 
ence? These  are  unanswerable  questions.  Our  conception  of 
Space  is  produced  by  some  mode  of  the  Unknowable;  and  the 
complete  unchangeableness  of  our  conception  of  it  simply  im- 
plies a complete  uniformity  in  the  effects  wrought  by  this 
mode  of  the  Unknowable  upon  us.  But  therefore  to  call  it  a 
necessary  mode  of  the  Unknowable,  is  illegitimate.  All  we  can 
assert  is,  that  Space  is  a relative  reality;  that  our  consciousness 
of  this  unchanging  relative  reality  implies  an  absolute  reality 
equally  unchanging  in  so  far  as  we  are  concerned;  and  that 
the  relative  reality  may  be  unhesitatingly  accepted  in  thought 
as  a valid  basis  for  our  reasonings ; which,  when  rightly  carried 
on,  will  bring  us  to  truths  that  have  a like  relative  reality  — 
the  only  truths  which  concern  us  or  can  possibly  be  known 
to  us. 

Concerning  Time,  relative  and  absolute,  a parallel  argument 


140 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


leads  to  parallel  conclusions.  These  are  too  obvious  to  need 
specifying  in  detail. 

§ 48.  Our  conception  of  Matter,  reduced  to  its  simplest 
shape,  is  that  of  co-existent  positions  that  offer  resistance;  as 
contrasted  with  our  conception  of  Space,  in  which  the  co- 
existent positions  offer  no  resistance.  We  think  of  Body  as 
bounded  by  surfaces  that  resist;  and  as  made  up  throughout 
of  parts  that  resist.  Mentally  abstract  the  co-existent  resist- 
ances, and  the  consciousness  of  Body  disappears ; leaving  behind 
it  the  consciousness  of  Space.  And  since  the  group  of  co- 
existing resistent  positions  constituting  a portion  of  matter, 
is  uniformly  capable  of  giving  us  impressions  of  resistance  in 
combination  with  various  muscular  adjustments,  according  as 
we  touch  its  near,  its  remote,  its  right,  or  its  left  side;  it 
results  that  as  different  muscular  adjustments  habitually  indi- 
cate different  co-existences,  we  are  obliged  to  conceive  every 
portion  of  matter  as  containing  more  than  one  resistent  position 
— that  is,  as  occupying  Space.  Hence  the  necessity  we  are 
under  of  representing  to  ourselves  the  ultimate  elements  of 
Matter  as  being  at  once  extended  and  resistent : this  being  the 
universal  form  of  our  sensible  experiences  of  Matter,  becomes 
the  form  which  our  conception  of  it  cannot  transcend,  however 
minute  the  fragments  which  imaginary  subdivisions  produce. 
Of  these  two  inseparable  elements,  the  resistance  is  primary, 
and  the  extension  secondary.  Occupied  extension,  or  Body, 
being  distinguished  in  consciousness  from  unoccupied  extension, 
or  Space,  by  its  resistance,  this  attribute  must  clearly  have 
precedence  in  the  genesis  of  the  idea.  Such  a conclusion  is, 
indeed,  an  obvious  corollary  from  that  at  which  we  arrived 
in  the  foregoing  section.  If,  as  was  there  contended,  our 
consciousness  of  Space  is  a product  of  accumulated  experi- 
ences, partly  our  own  but  chiefly  ancestral  — if,  as  was  pointed 
out,  the  experiences  from  which  our  consciousness  of  Space 
is  abstracted,  can  be  received  only  through  impressions  of 
resistance  made  upon  the  organism;  the  necessary  inference 
is,  that  experiences  of  resistance  being  those  from  which  the 
conception  of  Space  is  generated,  the  resistance-attribute  of 
Matter  must  be  regarded  as  primordial  and  the  space-attribute 
as  derivative.  Whence  it  becomes  manifest  that  our  experience 


SPACE,  TIME,  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE 


141 


of  force  is  that  out  of  which  the  idea  of  Matter  is  built.  Matter 
as  ojiposing  our  muscular  energies,  being  immediately  present 
to  consciousness  in  terms  of  force;  and  its  occupancy  of  Space 
being  known  by  an  abstract  of  experiences  originally  given  in 
terms  of  force ; it  follows  that  forces,  standing  in  certain 
correlations,  form  the  whole  content  of  our  idea  of  Matter. 

Such  being  our  cognition  of  the  relative  reality,  what  are 
we  to  say  of  the  absolute  reality?  We  can  only  say  that  it 
is  some  mode  of  the  Unknowable,  related  to  the  Matter  we 
know,  as  cause  to  effect.  The  relativity  of  our  cognition  of 
Matter  is  shown  alike  by  the  above  analysis,  and  by  the  con- 
tradictions which  are  evolved  when  we  deal  with  the  cognition 
as  an  absolute  one  (§  16).  But,  as  we  have  lately  seen,  though 
known  to  us  only  under  relation,  Matter  is  as  real  in  the  true 
sense  of  that  word,  as  it  would  be  could  we  know  it  out  of 
relation;  and  further,  the  relative  reality  which  we  know  as 
Matter,  is  necessarily  represented  to  the  mind  as  standing  in  a 
persistent  or  real  relation  to  the  absolute  reality.  We  may 
therefore  deliver  ourselves  over  without  hesitation,  to  those 
terms  of  thought  which  experience  has  organized  in  us.  We 
need  not  in  our  physical,  chemical,  or  other  researches,  refrain 
from  dealing  with  Matter  as  made  up  of  extended  and  resistent 
atoms ; for  this  conception,  necessarily  resulting  from  our 
experiences  of  Matter,  is  not  less  legitimate  than  the  conception 
of  aggregate  masses  as  extended  and  resistent.  The  atomic 
hypothesis,  as  well  as  the  kindred  hypothesis  of  an  all-pervading 
ether  consisting  of.  molecules,  is  simply  a necessary  development 
of  those  universal  forms  which  the  actions  of  the  Unknowable 
have  wrought  in  us.  The  conclusions  logically  worked  out  by 
the  aid  of  these  hypotheses,  are  sure  to  be  in  harmony  with  all 
others  which  the  same  forms  involve,  and  will  have  a relative 
truth  that  is  equally  complete. 

§ 49.  The  conception  of  Motion  as  presented  or  represented 
in  the  developed  consciousness,  involves  the  conceptions  of 
Space,  of  Time,  and  of  Matter.  A something  that  moves;  a 
series  of  positions  occupied  in  succession ; and  a group  of 
co-existent  positions  united  in  thought  with  the  successive  ones 
— these  are  the  constituents  of  the  idea.  And  since,  as  we  have 
seen,  these  are  severally  elaborated  from  experiences  of  force 


142 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


as  given  in  certain  correlations,  it  follows  that  from  a further 
synthesis  of  such  experiences,  the  idea  of  Motion  is  also  elabo- 
rated. A certain  other  element  in  the  idea,  which  is  in  truth 
its  fundamental  element  (namely,  the  necessity  which  the  mov- 
ing body  is  under  to  go  on  changing  its  position),  results  imme- 
diately from  the  earliest  experiences  of  force.  Movements  of 
different  parts  of  the  organism  in  relation  to  each  other,  are 
the  first  presented  in  consciousness.  These,  produced  by  the 
action  of  the  muscles,  necessitate  reactions  upon  consciousness 
in  the  shape  of  sensations  of  muscular  tension.  Consequently, 
each  stretching-out  or  drawing-in  of  a limb,  is  originally  known 
as  a series  of  muscular  tensions,  varying  in  intensity  as  the 
position  of  the  limb  changes.  And  this  rudimentary  con- 
sciousness of  Motion,  consisting  of  serial  impressions  of  force, 
becomes  inseparably  united  with  the  consciousness  of  Space 
and  Time  as  fast  as  these  are  abstracted  from  further  impres- 
sions of  force.  Or  rather,  out  of  this  primitive  conception  of 
Motion,  the  adult  conception  of  it  is  developed  simultaneously 
with  the  development  of  the  conceptions  of  Space  and  Time: 
all  three  being  evolved  from  the  more  multiplied  and  varied 
impressions  of  muscular  tension  and  objective  resistance. 
Motion,  as  we  know  it,  is  thus  traceable,  in  common  with  the 
other  ultimate  scientific  ideas,  to  experiences  of  force. 

That  this  relative  reality  answers  to  some  absolute  reality, 
it  is  needful  only  for  form’s  sake  to  assert.  What  has  been 
said  above,  respecting  the  Unknown  Cause  which  produces  in 
us  the  effects  called  Matter,  Space,  and  Time,  will  apply,  on 
simply  changing  the  terms,  to  Motion. 

§ 50.  We  come  down  then  finally  to  Force,  as  the  ultimate 
of  ultimates.  Though  Space,  Time,  Matter,  and  Motion,  are 
apparently  all  necessary  data  of  intelligence,  yet  a psychological 
analysis  (here  indicated  only  in  rude  outline)  shows  us  that 
these  are  either  built  up  of,  or  abstracted  from,  experiences  of 
Force.  Matter  and  Motion,  as  we  know  them,  are  differently 
conditioned  manifestations  of  Force.  Space  and  Time,  as  we 
know  them,  are  disclosed  along  with  these  different  manifesta- 
tions of  Force  as  the  conditions  under  which  they  are  presented. 
Matter  and  Motion  are  concretes  built  up  from  the  contents 
of  various  mental  relations;  while  Space  and  Time  are  abstracts 


SPACE,  TIME,  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE 


143 


of  the  forms  of  these  various  relations.  Deeper  down  than  these, 
however,  are  the  primordial  experiences  of  Force,  which,  as 
occurring  in  consciousness  in  different  combinations,  supply  at 
once  the  materials  whence  the  forms  of  relations  are  generalized, 
and  the  related  objects  built  up.  A single  impression  of  force 
is  manifestly  receivable  by  a sentient  being  devoid  of  mental 
forms : grant  but  sensibility,  with  no  established  power  of 
thought,  and  a force  producing  some  nervous  change  will  still 
be  presentable  at  the  supposed  seat  of  sensation.  Though  no 
single  impression  of  force  so  received,  could  itself  produce 
consciousness  (which  implies  relations  between  different  states), 
yet  a multiplication  of  such  impressions,  differing  in  kind  and 
degree,  would  give  the  materials  for  the  establishment  of 
relations,  that  is,  of  thought.  And  if  such  relations  differed 
in  their  forms  as  well  as  in  their  contents,  the  impressions  of 
such  forms  would  be  organized  simultaneously  with  the  im- 
pressions they  contained.  Thus  all  other  modes  of  conscious- 
ness are  derivable  from  experiences  of  Force ; but  experiences 
of  Force  are  not  derivable  from  anything  else.  Indeed,  it 
needs  but  to  remember  that  consciousness  consists  of  changes, 
to  see  that  the  ultimate  datum  of  consciousness  must  be  that 
of  which  change  is  the  manifestation;  and  that  thus  the  force 
by  which  we  ourselves  produce  changes,  and  which  serves  to 
symbolize  the  cause  of  changes  in  general,  is  the  final  dis- 
closure of  analysis. 

It  is  a truism  to  say  that  the  nature  of  this  undecomposable 
element  of  our  knowledge  is  inscrutable.  If,  to  use  an  algebraic 
illustration,  we  represent  Matter,  Motion,  and  Force,  by  the 
symbols  x , y , and  z ; then,  we  may  ascertain  the  values  of  x and  y 
in  terms  of  z;  but  the  value  of  2 can  never  be  found:  z is  the 
unknown  quantity  which  must  forever  remain  unknown;  for 
the  obvious  reason  that  there  is  nothing  in  which  its  value 
can  be  expressed.  It  is  within  the  possible  reach  of  our  intelli- 
gence to  go  on  simplifying  the  equations  of  all  phenomena, 
until  the  complex  symbols  which  formulate  them  are  reduced 
to  certain  functions  of  this  ultimate  symbol ; but  when  we 
have  done  this,  we  have  reached  that  limit  which  eternally 
divides  science  from  nescience. 

That  this  undecomposable  mode  of  consciousness  into  which 
all  other  modes  may  be  decomposed,  cannot  be  itself  the  Power 


144 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


manifested  to  us  through  phenomena,  has  been  already  proved 
(§  18).  We  saw  that  to  assume  an  identity  of  nature  between 
the  cause  of  changes  as  it  absolutely  exists,  and  that  cause 
of  change  of  which  we  are  conscious  in  our  own  muscular 
efforts,  betrays  us  into  alternative  impossibilities  of  thought. 
Force,  as  we  know  it,  can  be  regarded  only  as  a certain  con- 
ditioned effect  of  the  Unconditioned  Cause  — as  the  relative 
reality  indicating  to  us  an  Absolute  Reality  by  which  it  is 
immediately  produced.  And  here,  indeed,  we  see  even  more 
clearly  than  before,  how  inevitable  is  that  transfigured  realism 
to  which  sceptical  criticism  finally  brings  us  round.  Getting 
rid  of  all  complications,  and  contemplating  pure  Force,  we  are 
irresistibly  compelled  by  the  relativity  of  our  thought  to  vaguely 
conceive  some  unknown  force  as  the  correlative  of  the  known 
force.  N oumenon  and  phenomenon  are  here  presented  in  their 
primordial  relation  as  two  sides  of  the  same  change,  of  which 
we  are  obliged  to  regard  the  last  as  no  less  real  than  the  first. 

§ 51.  In  closing  this  exposition  of  the  derivative  data 
needed  by  Philosophy  as  the  unifier  of  Science,  we  may  properly 
glance  at  their  relations  to  the  primordial  data,  set  forth  in 
the  last  chapter. 

An  Unknown  Cause  of  the  known  effects  which  we  call  phe- 
nomena, likenesses  and  differences  among  these  known  effects, 
and  a segregation  of  the  effects  into  subject  and  object  — these 
are  the  postulates  without  which  we  cannot  think.  Within 
each  of  the  segregated  masses  of  manifestations,  there  are  like- 
nesses and  differences  involving  secondary  segregations,  which 
have  also  become  indispensable  postulates.  The  vivid  manifesta- 
tions constituting  the  non-ego  do  not  simply  cohere,  but  their 
cohesions  have  certain  invariable  modes;  and  among  the  faint 
manifestations  constituting  the  ego , which  are  products  of  the 
vivid,  there  exist  corresponding  modes  of  cohesion.  These 
modes  of  cohesion  under  which  manifestations  are  invariably 
presented,  and  therefore  invariably  represented,  we  call,  when 
contemplated  apart,  Space  and  Time,  and  when  contemplated 
along  with  the  manifestations  themselves,  Matter  and  Motion. 
The  ultimate  natures  of  these  modes  are  as  unknown  as  is 
the  ultimate  nature  of  that  which  is  manifested.  But  just 


SPAGE,  TIME,  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORGE 


145 


the  same  warrant  which  we  have  for  asserting  that  subject 
and  object  co-exist,  we  have  for  asserting  that  the  vivid  mani- 
festations we  call  objective,  exist  under  certain  constant  con- 
ditions, that  are  symbolized  by  these  constant  conditions  among 
the  manifestations  we  call  subjective. 


146 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTER  IY. 

THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OE  MATTER. 

§ 52.  Hot  because  the  truth  is  unfamiliar,  is  it  needful 
here  to  say  something  concerning  the  indestructibility  of  Mat- 
ter ; but  partly  because  the  symmetry  of  our  argument  demands 
the  enunciation  of  this  truth,  and  partly  because  the  evidence 
on  which  it  is  accepted  requires  examination.  Could  it  be 
shown,  or  could  it  with  any  rationality  be  even  supposed,  that 
Matter,  either  in  its  aggregates  or  in  its  units,  ever  became 
non-existent,  there  would  be  need  either  to  ascertain  under 
what  conditions  it  became  non-existent,  or  else  to  confess  that 
Science  and  Philosophy  are  impossible.  For  if,  instead  of 
having  to  deal  with  fixed  quantities  and  weights,  we  had  to  deal 
with  quantities  and  weights  which  were  apt,  wholly  or  in  part, 
to  be  annihilated,  there  would  be  introduced  an  incalculable 
element,  fatal  to  all  positive  conclusions.  Clearly,  therefore, 
the  proposition  that  matter  is  indestructible  must  be  deliberately 
considered. 

So  far  from  being  admitted  as  a self-evident  truth,  this 
would,  in  primitive  times,  have  been  rejected  as  a self-evident 
error.  There  was  once  universally  current,  a notion  that  things 
could  vanish  into  absolute  nothing,  or  arise  out  of  absolute 
nothing.  If  we  analyze  early  superstitions,  or  that  faith  in 
magic  which  was  general  in  later  times  and  even  still  survives 
among  the  uncultured,  we  find  one  of  its  postulates  to  be,  that 
by  some  potent  spell  Matter  can  be  called  out  of  nonentity,  and 
can  be  made  non-existent.  If  men  did  not  believe  this  in  the 
strict  sense  of  the  word  (which  would  imply  that  the  process 
of  creation  or  annihilation  was  clearly  represented  in  con- 
sciousness), they  still  believed  that  they  believed  it;  and  how 
nearly,  in  their  confused  thoughts,  the  one  was  equivalent  to 
the  other,  is  shown  by  their  conduct.  Nor,  indeed,  have  dark 
ages  and  inferior  minds  alone  betrayed  this  belief.  The  current 


(THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 


147 


theology,  in  its  teachings  respecting  the  beginning  and  end  of 
the  world,  is  clearly  pervaded  by  it;  and  it  may  be  even  ques- 
tioned whether  Shakespeare,  in  his  poetical  anticipation  of  a 
time  when  all  things  shall  disappear  and  “ leave  not  a wrack 
behind,”  was  not  under  its  influence.  The  gradual  accumula- 
tion of  experiences,  however,  and  still  more  the  organization 
of  experiences,  has  tended  slowly  to  reverse  tills  conviction; 
until  now,  the  doctrine  that  Matter  is  indestructible  has  be- 
come a commonplace.  All  the  apparent  proofs  that  something 
can  come  out  of  nothing,  a wider  knowledge  has  one  by  one 
cancelled.  The  comet  that  is  suddenly  discovered  in  the  heav- 
ens and  nightly  waxes  larger,  is  proved  not  to  be  a newly- 
created  body,  but  a body  that  was  until  lately  beyond  the 
range  of  vision.  The  cloud  which  in  the  course  of  a few 
minutes  forms  in  the  sky,  consists  not  of  substance  that  has 
just  begun  to  be,  but  of  substance  that  previously  existed  in  a 
more  diffused  and  transparent  form.  And  similarly  with  a 
crystal  or  precipitate  in  relation  to  the  fluid  depositing  it. 
Conversely,  the  seeming  annihilations  of  Matter  turn  out,  on 
closer  observation,  to  be  only  changes  of  state.  It  is  found 
that  the  evaporated  water,  though  it  has  become  invisible,  may 
be  brought  by  condensation  to  its  original  shape.  The  dis- 
charged fowling-piece  gives  evidence  that  though  the  gun- 
powder has  disappeared,  there  have  appeared  in  place  of  it 
certain  gases,  which,  in  assuming  a larger  volume,  have  caused 
the  explosion.  Not,  however,  until  the  rise  of  quantitative 
chemistry,  could  the  conclusion  suggested  by  such  experiences 
be  harmonized  with  all  the  facts.  When,  having  ascertained  not 
only  the  combinations  formed  by  various  substances,  but  also 
the  proportions  in  which  they  combine,  chemists  were  enabled 
to  account  for  the  matter  that  had  made  its  appearance  or 
become  invisible,  scepticism  was  dissipated.  And  of  the  general 
conclusion  thus  reached,  the  exact  analyses  daily  made,  in 
which  the  same  portion  of  matter  is  pursued  through  numerous 
'disguises  and  finally  separated,  furnish  never-ceasing  confirma- 
tions.- 

Such  has  become  the  effect  of  this  specific  evidence,  joined 
to  that  general  evidence  which  the  continued  existence  of 
familiar  objects  unceasingly  gives  us,  that  the  Indestructibility 


148 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


of  Matter  is  now  held  by  many  to  be  a truth  of  which  the 
negation  is  inconceivable. 

§ 53.  This  last  fact  naturally  raises  the  question,  whether 
we  have  any  higher  warrant  for  this  fundamental  belief  than 
the  warrant  of  conscious  induction.  Before  showing  that  we 
have  a higher  warrant,  some  explanations  are  needful. 

The  consciousness  of  logical  necessity,  is  the  consciousness 
that  a certain  conclusion  is  implicitly  contained  in  certain 
premises  explicitly  stated.  If,  contrasting  a young  child  and 
an  adult,  we  see  that  this  consciousness  of  logical  necessity, 
absent  from  the  one  is  present  in  the  other,  we  are  taught  that 
there  is  a growing  up  to  the  recognition  of  certain  necessary 
truths,  merely  by  the  unfolding  of  the  inherited  intellectual 
forms  and  faculties. 

To  state  the  case  more  specifically : — Before  a truth  can  be 
known  as  necessary,  two  conditions  must  be  fulfilled.  There 
must  be  a mental  structure  capable  of  grasping  the  terms  of 
the  proposition  and  the  relation  alleged  between  them;  and 
there  must  be  such  definite  and  deliberate  mental  representation 
of  these  terms,  as  makes  possible  a clear  consciousness  of  this 
relation.  Non-fulfilment  of  either  condition  may  cause  non- 
recognition of  the  necessity  of  the  truth.  Let  us  take  cases. 

The  savage  who  cannot  count  the  fingers  on  one  hand,  can 
frame  no  definite  thought  answering  to  the  statement  that  7 
and  5 are  12 ; still  less  can  he  frame  the  consciousness  that  no 
other  total  is  possible. 

The  boy  adding  up  figures  inattentively,  says  to  himself  that 
7 and  5 are  11;  and  may  repeatedly  bring  out  a wrong  result  by 
repeatedly  making  this  error. 

Neither  the  non-recognition  of  the  truth  that  7 and  5 are  12, 
which  in  the  savage  results  from  undeveloped  mental  structure, 
nor  the  assertion,  due  to  the  boy’s  careless  mental  action,  that 
they  make  11,  leads  us  to  doubt  the  necessity  of  the  relation 
between  these  two  separately-existing  numbers  and  the  sum  they 
make  when  existing  together.  Nor  does  failure  from  either 
cause  to  apprehend  the  necessity  of  this  relation,  make  us  hesi- 
tate to  say  that  when  its  terms  are  distinctly  represented  in 
thought,  its  necessity  will  be  seen;  and  that,  apart  from  any 
multiplied  experiences,  this  necessity  becomes  cognizable  when 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 


149 


structures  and  functions  are  so  far  developed  that  groups  of 
7 and  5 and  12  can  be  intellectually  grasped. 

Manifestly,  then,  there  is  a recognition  of  necessary  truths, 
as  such,  which  accompanies  mental  evolution.  Along  with 
acquirement  of  more  complex  faculty  and  more  vivid  imagina- 
tion, there  comes  a power  of  perceiving  to  be  necessary  truths, 
what  were  before  not  recognized  as  truths  at  all.  And  there 
are  ascending  gradations  in  these  recognitions.  A boy  who 
has  intelligence  enough  to  see  that  things  which  are  equal 
to  the  same  thing  are  equal  to  ono  another,  may  be  unable 
to  see  that  ratios  which  are  severally  equal  to  certain  other 
ratios  that  are  unequal  to  each  other,  are  themselves  unequal; 
though  to  a more-developed  mind  this  last  axiom  is  no  less 
obviously  necessary  than  the  first. 

All  this,  which  holds  of  logical  and  mathematical  truths, 
holds,  with  change  of  terms,  of  physical  truths.  There  are 
necessary  truths  in  Physics  for  the  apprehension  of  which,  also, 
a developed  and  disciplined  intelligence  is  required ; and  before 
such  intelligence  arises,  not  only  may  there  be  failure  to  appre- 
hend the  necessity  of  them,  but  there  may  be  vague  beliefs  in 
their  contraries.  Up  to  comparatively  recent  times,  all  man- 
kind were  in  this  state-  of  incapacity  with  respect  to  physical 
axioms;  and  the  mass  of  mankind  are  so  still.  Various  popular 
notions  betray  inability  to  form  clear  ideas  of  forces  and  their 
relations,  or  carelessness  in  thinking,  or  both.  Effects  are  ex- 
pected without  causes  of  fit  kinds;  or  effects  extremely  disjaro- 
portionate  to  causes  are  looked  for;  or  causes  are  supposed  to 
end  without  effects.1’  But  though  many  are  incapable  of  grasp- 
ing physical  axioms,  it  no  more  follows  that  physical  axioms  are 
not  knowable  a priori  by  a developed  intelligence,  than  it  follows 


i I knew  a lady  who  coniended  that  a dress  folded  up  tightly,  weighed 
more  than  when  loosely  folded  up  ; and  who,  under  this  belief,  had  her 
trunks  made  large  that  she  might  diminish  the  charge  for  freight ! 
Another  whom  I know,  ascribes  the  feeling  of  lightness  which  accom- 
panies vigor,  to  actual  decrease  of  weight;  believes  that  by  stepping 
gently,  she  can  press  less  upon  the  ground ; and,  when  cross-questioned, 
asserts  that,  if  placed  in  scales,  she  can  make  herself  lighter  by  an  act 
of  will!  Various  popular  notions  betray  like  states  of  mind  — show,  in 
the  undisciplined,  such  inability  to  form  ideas  of  forces  and  their  rela- 
tions, or  such  randomness  in  thinking,  or  both,  as  incapacitates  them  for 
grasping  physical  axioms,  and  makes  them  harbor  numerous  delusions 
respecting  physical  actions. 


150 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


that  logical  relations  are  not  necessary,  because  undeveloped 
intellects  cauuot  perceive  their  necessity. 

It  is  thus  with  the  notions  which  have  been  current  re- 
specting the  creation  and  annihilation  of  Matter.  In  the  first 
place,  there  has  been  a habitual  confounding  of  two  radically- 
different  things  — disappearance  of  Matter  from  that  place 
where  it  was  lately  perceived,  and  passage  of  Matter  from  ex- 
istence into  non-existence.  Only  when  there  is  reached  a 
power  of  discrimination  beyond  that  possessed  by  the  un- 
cultured, is  there  an  avoidance  of  the  confusion  between  vanish- 
ing from  the  range  of  perception,  and  vanishing  out  of  space 
altogether;  and  until  this  confusion  is  avoided,  the  belief  that 
Matter  can  be  annihilated  readily  obtains  currency.  In  the 
second  place,  the  currency  of  this  belief  continues  so  long  as 
there  is  not  such  power  of  introspection  that  it  can  be  seen  what 
happens  when  the  attempt  is  made  to  annihilate  Matter  in 
thought.  But  when,  during  mental  evolution,  the  vague  ideas 
arising  in  a nervous  structure  imperfectly  organized,  are  re- 
placed by  the  clear  ideas  arising  in  a definite  nervous  structure; 
this  definite  structure,  molded  by  experience  into  correspondence 
with  external  phenomena,  makes  necessary  in  thought  the  re- 
lations answering  to  absolute  uniformities  in  things.  Hence, 
among  others,  the  conception  of  the  Indestructibility  of  Matter. 

For  careful  self-analysis  shows  this  to  be  a datum  of  con- 
sciousness. Conceive  the  space  before  you  to  be  cleared  of  all 
bodies  save  one.  Now  imagine  the  remaining  one  not  to  be 
removed  from  its  place,  but  to  lapse  into  nothing  while  stand- 
ing in  that  place.  You  fail.  The  space  which  was  solid  you 
cannot  conceive  becoming  empty,  save  by  transfer  of  that  which 
made  it  solid.  What  is  termed  the  ultimate  incompress- 
ibility of  Matter,  is  an  admitted  law  of  thought.  However 
small  the  bulk  to  which  we  conceive  a piece  of  matter  reduced, 
it  is  impossible  to  conceive  it  reduced  into  nothing.  While  we 
can  represent  to  ourselves  the  parts  of  the  matter  as  approxi- 
mated, we  cannot  represent  to  ourselves  the  quantity  of  matter 
as  made  less.  To  do  this  would  be  to  imagine  some  of  the 
constituent  parts  compressed  into  nothing;  which  is  no  more 
possible  than  to  imagine  compression  of  the  whole  into  nothing. 
Our  inability  to  conceive  Matter  becoming  non-existent,  is  im- 
mediately consequent  on  the  nature  of  thought.  Thought  con- 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 


151 


sists  in  the  establishment  of  relations.  There  can  be  no 
relation  established,  and  therefore  no  thought  framed,  when  one 
of  the  related  terms  is  absent  from  consciousness.  Hence  it  is 
impossible  to  think  of  something  becoming  nothing,  for  the 
same  reason  that  it  is  impossible  to  think  of  nothing  becom- 
ing something  — the  reason,  namely,  that  nothing  cannot  be- 
come an  object  of  consciousness.  The  annihilation  of  Matter  is 
unthinkable  for  the  same  reason  that  the  creation  of  Matter 
is  unthinkable. 

It  must  be  added  that  no  experimental  verification  of  the 
truth  that  Matter  is  indestructible,  is  possible  without  a tacit  as- 
sumption of  it.  For  all  such  verification  implies  weighing,  aud 
weighing  implies  that  the  matter  forming  the  weight  remains 
the  same.  In  other  words,  the  proof  that  certain  matter  dealt 
with  in  certain  ways  is  unchanged  in  quantity,  depends  on  the 
assumption  that  other  matter,  otherwise  dealt  with,  is  un- 
changed in  quantity. 

§ 54.  That,  however,  which  it  most  concerns  us  here  to  ob- 
serve, is  the  nature  of  the  perceptions  by  which  the  permanence 
of  Matter  is  perpetually  illustrated  to  us.  These  perceptions, 
under  all  their  forms,  amount  simply  to  this  — that  the  force 
which  a given  quantity  of  matter  exercises,  remains  always  the 
same.  This  is  the  proof  on  which  common  sense  and  exact 
science  alike  rely.  When,  for  example,  an  object  known  to 
have  existed  years  since  is  said  to  exist  still,  by  one  who  yester- 
day saw  it,  his  assertion  amounts  to  this — -that  an  object  which 
in  past  time  wrought  on  his  consciousness  a certain  group  of 
changes,  still  exists,  because  a like  group  of  changes  has  been 
again  wrought  on  his  consciousness : the  continuance  of  the 
power  thus  to  impress  him,  he  holds  to  prove  the  continuance  of 
the  object.  Even  more  clearly  do  we  see  that  force  is  our 
ultimate  measure  of  Matter,  in  those  cases  where  the  shape  of 
the  Matter  has  been  changed.  A piece  of  gold  given  to  an 
artisan  to  be  worked  into  an  ornament,  and  which  when  brought 
back  appears  to  be  less,  is  placed  in  the  scales ; and  if  it  balances 
a much  smaller  weight  than  it  did  in  its  rough  state,  we  infer 
that  much  has  been  lost  either  in  manipulation  or  by  direct  ab- 
straction. Here  the  obvious  postulate  is,  that  the  quantity  of 
Matter  is  finally  determinable  by  the  quantity  of  gravitative 


152 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


force  it  manifests.  And  this  is  the  kind  of  evidence  on  which 
Science  bases  its  alleged  induction  that  Matter  is  indestructible. 
Whenever  a piece  of  substance  lately  visible  and  tangible,  has 
been  reduced  to  an  invisible,  intangible  state,  but  is  proved  by 
the  weight  of  the  gas  into  which  it  has  been  transformed  to  be 
still  existing;  the  assumption  is  that,  though  otherwise  insensible 
to  us,  the  amount  of  matter  is  the  same  if  it  still  tends  toward 
the  Earth  with  the  same  force.  Similarly,  every  case  in  which 
the  weight  of  an  element  present  in  combination  is  inferred 
from  the  known  weight  of  another  element  which  it  neutralizes, 
is  a case  in  which  the  quantity  of  matter  is  expressed  in  terms  of 
the  quantity  of  chemical  force  it  exerts;  and  in  which  this  spe- 
cific chemical  force  is  assumed  to  be  the  correlative  of  a specific 
gravitative  force. 

Thus,  then,  by  the  Indestructibility  of  Matter,  we  really  mean 
the  indestructibility  of  the  force  with  which  Matter  affects  us. 
As  we  become  conscious  of  Matter  only  through  that  resistance 
which  it  opposes  to  our  muscular  energy,  so  do  we  become  con- 
scious of  the  permanence  of  Matter  only  through  the  permanence 
of  this  resistance;  either  as  immediately  or  as  mediately  proved 
to  us.  And  this  truth  is  made  manifest  not  only  by  analysis  of 
the  a posteriori  cognition,  but  equally  so  by  analysis  of  the  a 
priori  one.1 

i Lest  lie  should  not  have  observed  it,  the  reader  must  be  warned  that 
the  terms  “ a priori  truth  ” and  “ necessary  truth,”  as  used  in  this  work, 
are  to  be  interpreted  not  in  the  old  sense,  as  implying  cognitions  wholly 
independent  of  experiences,  but  as  implying  cognitions  that  have  been 
rendered  organic  by  immense  accumulations  of  experiences,  received 
partly  by  the  individual,  but  mainly  by  all  ancestral  individuals  whose 
nervous  systems  he  inherits.  On  referring  to  the  “ Principles  of  Psy- 
chology ” (§§  426-433),  it  will  be  seen  that  the  warrant  alleged  for 
one  of  these  irreversible  ultimate  convictions  is  that,  on  the  hypothesis 
of  Evolution,  it  represents  an  immeasurably-greater  accumulation  of 
experiences  than  can  be  acquired  by  any  single  individual. 


THE  CONTINUITY  OF  MOTION 


153 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  CONTINUITY  OF  MOTION. 

§ 55.  Another  general  truth  of  the  same  order  with  the 
foregoing  must  here  be  specified.  Like  the  Indestructibility  of 
Matter,  the  Continuity  of  Motion,  or,  more  strictly,  of  that 
something  which  has  Motion  for  one  of  its  sensible  forms,  is  a 
proposition  on  the  truth  of  which  depends  the  possibility  of 
exact  Science,  and  therefore  of  a Philosophy  which  unifies  the 
results  of  exact  Science.  Motions,  visible  and  invisible,  of 
masses  and  of  molecules,  form  the  larger  half  of  the  phenomena 
to  be  interpreted ; and  if  such  motions  might  either  proceed  from 
nothing  or  lapse  into  nothing,  there  could  be  no  scientific  inter- 
pretation of  them. 

This  second  fundamental  truth,  like  the  first,  is  by  no  means 
self-evident  to  primitive  men  or  to  the  uncultured  among  our- 
selves. Contrariwise,  to  undeveloped  minds  the  opposite  seems 
self-evident.  The  facts  that  a stone  thrown  up  soon  loses  its 
ascending  motion,  and  that  after  the  blow  its  fall  gives  to  the 
Earth,  it  remains  quiescent,  apparently  prove  that  the  principle 
of  activity1  which  the  stone  manifested  may  disappear  absolute- 
ly. Accepting,  without  criticism,  the  dicta  of  unaided  perception, 
to  the  effect  that  adjacent  objects  put  in  motion  soon  return  to 
rest,  all  men  once  believed,  and  most  believe  still,  that  motion  can 
pass  into  nothing;  and  ordinarily  does  so  pass.  But  the  estab- 
lishment of  certain  facts  having  an  opposite  implication,  led 
to  inquiries  which  have  gradually  proved  these  appearances 
to  be  illusive.  The  discovery  that  the  planets  revolve  round  the 
Sun  with  undiminishing  speed,  raised  the  suspicion  that  a 
moving  body,  when  not  interfered  with,  will  go  on  forever  with- 
out change  of  velocity;  and  suggested  the  question  whether 

1 Throughout  this  chapter.  I use  this  phrase,  not  with  any  metaphysical 
meaning,  hut  merely  to  avoid  foregone  conclusions. 


154 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


bodies  which  lose  their  motion,  do  not  at  the  same  time  com- 
municate as  much  motion  to  other  bodies.  It  was  a familiar 
fact  that  a stone  would  glide  further  over  a smooth  surface,  such 
as  ice,  presenting  no  small  objects  to  which  it  could  part  with  its 
motion  by  collision,  than  over  a surface  strewn  with  such  small 
objects;  and  that  a projectile  would  travel  a far  greater  dis- 
tance through  a rare  medium  like  air,  than  through  a dense 
medium  like  water.  Thus  the  primitive  notion  that  moving 
bodies  had  an  inherent  tendency  to  lose  their  motion  and  finally 
stop  — a notion  of  which  the  Greeks  did  not  get  rid,  but  which 
lasted  till  the  time  of  Galileo  — began  to  give  way.  It  was  fur- 
ther shaken  by  such  experiments  as  those  of  Hooke,  which  proved 
that  the  spinning  of  a top  continues  long  in  proportion  as  it 
is  prevented  from  communicating  motion  to  surrounding 
matter. 

To  explain  specifically  how  modern  physicists  interpret  all 
disappearances  and  diminutions  of  visible  motion,  would  re- 
quire more  knowledge  than  I possess  and  more  space  than  I can 
spare.  Here  it  must  suffice  to  state,  generally,  that  the  molar 
motion  which  disappears  when  a bell  is  struck  by  its  clapper, 
reappears  in  the  bell’s  vibrations  and  in  the  waves  of  air  they 
produce ; that  when  a moving  mass  is  stopped  by  coming  against 
a mass  that  is  immovable,  the  motion  which  does  not  reappear 
in  sound  reappears  as  molecular  motion ; and  that,  similarly, 
when  bodies  rub  against  one  another,  the  motion  lost  by  friction 
is  gained  in  the  motion  of  molecules.  But  one  aspect  of  this 
general  truth,  as  it  is  displayed  to  us  in  the  motions  of  masses, 
we  must  carefully  contemplate;  for  otherwise  the  doctrine  of 
the  Continuity  of  Motion  will  be  entirely  misapprehended. 

§ 56.  As  expressed  by  Newton,  the  first  law  of  motion  is 
that  “ every  body  must  persevere  in  its  state  of  rest,  or  of  uni- 
form motion  in  a straight  line,  unless  it  be  compelled  to  change 
that  state  by  forces  impressed  upon  it.” 

With  this  truth  may  be  associated  the  truth  that  a body  de- 
scribing a circular  orbit  round  a centre  which  detains  it  by  a 
tractive  force,  moves  in  that  orbit  with  undiminished  velocity. 

The  first  of  these  abstract  truths  is  never  realized  in  the  con- 
crete, and  the  second  of  them  is  but  approximately  realized. 
Uniform  motion  in  a straight  line,  implies  the  absence  of  a re- 


THE  CONTINUITY  OF  MOTION 


155 


sisting  medium;  and  it  further  implies  the  absence  of  forces, 
gravitative  or  other,  exercised  by  neighboring  masses : condi- 
tions never  fulfilled.  So,  too,  the  maintenance  of  a circular 
orbit  by  any  celestial  body,  implies  both  that  there  are  no  perturb- 
ing bodies,  and  that  there  is  a certain  exact  adjustment  between 
its  velocity  and  the  tractive  force  of  its  primary:  neither  re- 
quirement ever  being  conformed  to.  In  all  actual  orbits,  sen- 
sibly elliptical  as  they  are,  the  velocity  is  sensibly  variable.  And 
along  with  great  eccentricity  there  goes  great  variation. 

To  the  case  of  celestial  bodies  which,  moving  in  eccentric 
orbits,  display  at  one  time  little  motion  and  at  another  much 
motion,  may  be  joined  the  case  of  the  pendulum.  With  sjieed 
now  increasing  and  now  decreasing,  the  pendulum  alternates 
between  extremes  at  which  motion  ceases. 

How  shall  we  so  conceive  these  allied  phenomena  as  to  ex- 
press rightly  the  truth  common  to  them?  The  first  law  of 
motion,  nowhere  literally  fulfilled,  is  yet,  in  a sense,  implied 
by  these  facts  which  seem  at  variance  with  it.  Though  in  a 
circular  orbit  the  direction  of  the  motion  is  continually  being 
changed,  yet  the  velocity  remains  unchanged.  Though  in  an 
elliptical  orbit  there  is  now  acceleration  and  now  retardation, 
yet  the  average  speed  is  constant  through  successive  revolutions. 
Though  the  pendulum  comes  to  a momentary  rest  at  the  end  of 
each  swing,  and  then  begins  a reverse  motion ; yet  the  oscillation, 
considered  as  a whole,  is  continuous : friction  and  atmospheric 
resistance  being  absent,  this  alternation  of  states  will  go  on  for- 
ever. 

What,  then,  do  these  cases  show  us  in  common?  That  which 
vision  familiarizes  us  with  in  Motion,  and  that  which  has 
thus  been  made  the  dominant  element  in  our  conception  of 
Motion,  is  not  the  element  of  w'hich  we  can  allege  continuity.  If 
we  regard  Motion  simply  as  change  of  place ; then  the  pendulum 
shows  us  both  that  the  rate  of  this  change  may  vary  from  instant 
to  instant,  and  that,  ceasing  at  intervals,  it  may  be  afresh  in- 
itiated. 

But  if  what  we  may  call  the  translation-element  in  Motion 
is  not  continuous,  what  is  continuous?  If,  watching  like  Gali- 
leo a swinging  chandelier,  we  observe,  not  its  isochronism,  but 
the  recurring  reversal  of  its  swing,  we  are  impressed  with  the 
fact  that  though,  at  the  end  of  each  swing,  the  translation  through 


156 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


space  ceases,  yet  there  is  something  which  does  not  cease ; for  the 
translation  recommences  in  the  opposite  direction.  And  on 
remembering  that  when  a violent  push  was  given  to  the  chande- 
lier it  described  a larger  arc,  and  was  a longer  time  before  the 
resistance  of  the  air  destroyed  its  oscillations,  we  are  shown  that 
what  continues  to  exist  during  these  oscillations  is  some  correla- 
tive of  the  muscular  effort  which  put  the  chandelier  in  motion. 
The  truth  forced  on  our  attention  by  these  facts  and  inferences, 
is  that  translation  through  space  is  not  itself  an  existence ; and 
that  hence  the  cessation  of  Motion,  considered  simply  as  trans- 
lation, is  not  the  cessation  of  an  existence,  but  is  the  cessation 
of  a certain  sign  of  an  existence  ■ — a sign  occurring  under  certain 
conditions. 

Still  there  remains  a difficulty.  If  that  element  in  the  chan- 
delier’s motion  of  which  alone  we  can  allege  continuity,  is  the 
correlative  of  the  muscular  effort  which  moved  the  chandelier, 
what  becomes  of  this  element  at  either  extreme  of  the  oscilla- 
tion? Arrest  the  chandelier  in  the  middle  of  its  swing,  and  it 
gives  a blow  to  the  hand  — exhibits  some  principle  of  activity 
such  as  muscular  effort  can  give.  But  touch  it  at  either  turning 
point,  and  it  displays  no  such  principle  of  activity.  This  has 
disappeared  just  as  much  aS  the  translation  through  space  has 
disappeared.  How,  then,  can  it  be  alleged  that  though  the  Mo- 
tion through  space  is  not  continuous,  the  principle  of  activity  im- 
plied by  the  Motion  is  continuous? 

Unquestionably  the  facts  show  that  the  principle  of  activity 
continues  to  exist  under  some  form.  When  not  perceptible  it 
must  be  latent.  How  is  it  latent?  A clew  to  the  answer  is 
gained  on  observing  that  though  the  chandelier  when  seized  at 
the  turning  point  of  its  swing,  gives  no  impact  in  the  direction 
of  its  late  movement,  it  forthwith  begins  to  pull  in  the  opposite 
direction ; and  on  observing,  further,  that  its  pull  is  great  when 
the  swing  has  been  made  extensive  by  a violent  push.  Hence  the 
loss  of  visible  activity  at  the  highest  point  of  the  upward  mo- 
tion, is  accompanied  by  the  production  of  an  invisible  activity 
which  generates  the  subsequent  motion  downward.  To  con- 
ceive this  latent  activity  gained  as  an  existence  equal  to  the 
perceptible  activity  lost,  is  not  easy;  but  we  may  help  ourselves 
so  to  conceive  it  by  considering  cases  of  another  class. 


THE  CONTINUITY  OF  MOTION 


157 


§ 57.  When  one  who  pushes  against  a door  that  has  stuck 
fast,  produces  by  great  effort  no  motion,  but  eventually  by  a 
little  greater  effort  bursts  the  door  open,  swinging  it  back  against 
the  wall  and  tumbling  headlong  into  the  room ; he  has  evidence 
that  a certain  muscular  strain  which  did  not  produce  translation 
of  matter  through  space,  was  yet  equivalent  to  a certain  amount 
of  such  translation.  Again,  when  a railway-porter  gradually 
stops  a detached  carriage  by  pulling  at  the  buffer,  he  shows 
us  that  (supposing  friction,  etc.,  absent)  the  slowly-diminished 
motion  of  the  carriage  over  a certain  space,  is  the  equivalent  of 
the  constant  backward  strain  put  upon  the  carriage  while  it  is 
travelling  through  that  space.  Carrying  with  us  the  concep- 
tion thus  reached,  we  will  now  consider  a case  which  makes  it 
more  definite. 

When  used  as  a plaything  by  boys,  a ball  fastened  to  the 
end  of  an  India-rubber  string  yields  a clear  idea  of  the  cor- 
relation between  perceptible  activity  and  latent  activity.  If, 
retaining  one  end  of  the  string,  a boy  throws  the  ball  from  him 
horizontally,  its  motion  is  resisted  by  the  increasing  strain  on 
the  string;  and  the  string,  stretched  more  and  more  as  the 
ball  recedes,  presently  brings  it  to  rest.  Where  now  exists  the 
principle  of  activity  which  the  moving  ball  displayed  ? It  exists 
in  the  strained  thread  of  India-rubber.  Under  what  form  of 
changed  molecular  state  it  exists  we  need  not  ask.  It  suffices 
that  the  string  is  the  seat  of  a tension  generated  by  the  motion 
of  the  ball,  and  equivalent  to  it.  When  the  ball  has  been  ar- 
rested, the  stretched  string  begins  to  generate  in  it  an  opposite 
motion;  and  continues  to  accelerate  that  motion  until  the  ball 
comes  back  to  the  point  at  which  the  stretching  of  the  string 
commenced  — a point  at  which,  but  for  loss  by  atmospheric  re- 
sistance and  molecular  redistribution,  its  velocity  would  be 
equal  to  the  original  velocity.  Here  the  truth  that  the  prin- 
ciple of  activity,  alternating  between  visible  and  invisible  modes, 
does  not  cease  to  exist  when  the  translation  through  space  ceases 
to  exist,  is  readily  comprehensible;  and  it  becomes  easy  to  un- 
derstand the  corollary  that  at  each  point  in  the  path  of  the 
ball,  the  quantity  of  its  perceptible  activity,  plus  the  quantity 
which  is  latent  in  the  stretched  string,  yield  a constant  sum. 

Aided  by  this  illustration  we  can,  in  a general  way,  con- 
ceive what  happens  between  bodies  connected  with  one  another,. 


158 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


not  by  a stretched  string,  but  by  a traction  exercised  through 
what  seems  empty  space.  It  matters  not  to  our  general  con- 
ception that  the  intensity  of  this  traction  varies  in  a totally- 
dift'erent  manner:  decreasing  as  the  square  of  the  distance  in- 
creases, but  being  practically  constant  for  terrestrial  distances. 
These  differences  being  recognized,  there  is  nevertheless  to  be 
recognized  a truth  common  to  both  cases.  The  weight  of 
something  held  in  the  hand  shows  that  there  exists  between 
one  body  in  space  and  another,  a strain:  this  downward  pull, 
ascribed  to  gravity,  affects  the  hand  as  it  might  be  affected  by  a 
stretched  elastic  string.  Hence,  when  a body  projected  upward 
and  gradually  retarded  by  gravity,  finally  stops,  we  must  re- 
gard the  principle  of  activity  manifested  during  its  upward  mo- 
tion but  disappearing  at  its  turning-point,  as  having  become 
latent  in  the  strain  between  it  and  the  Earth  — a strain  of  which 
the  quantity  is  to  be  conceived  as  the  product  of  its  intensity  and 
the  distance  through  which  it  acts.  Carrying  a step  further  our 
illustration  of  the  stretched  string  will  elucidate  this.  To  sim- 
ulate the  action  of  gravity  at  terrestrial  distances,  let  us  imagine 
that  when  the  attached  moving  body  has  stretched  the  elastic 
string  to  its  limit,  say  at  the  distance  of  ten  feet,  a second  like 
string  could  instantly  be  tied  to  the  end  of  the  first  and  to  the 
body,  which,  continuing  its  course,  stretched  this  second  string 
to  an  equal  length,  and  so  on  with  a succession  of  such  strings, 
till  the  body  was  arrested.  Then,  manifestly,  the  quantity  of 
the  principle  of  activity  which  the  moving  body  had  displayed, 
but  which  has  now  become  latent  in  the  series  of  stretched 
strings,  is  measured  by  the  number  of  such  strings  similarly 
stretched  — the  number  of  feet  through  which  this  constant 
strain  has  been  encountered,  and  over  which  it  still  extends. 
Now  though  we  cannot  conceive  the  tractive  force  of  gravity  to 
be  exercised  in  a like  way  — though  the  gravitative  action, 
utterly  unknown  in  nature,  is  probably  a resultant  of  actions 
pervading  the  ethereal  medium;  yet  the  above  analogy  suggests 
the  belief  that  the  principle  of  activity  in  a moving  body  arrested 
by  gravity,  has  not  ceased  to  exist,  but  has  become  so  much  im- 
perceptible or  latent  activity  in  the  medium  occupying  space, 
and  that  when  the  body  falls,  this  is  retransformed  into  its 
equivalent  of  perceptible  activity.  If  we  conceive  the  process  at 
all,  we  must  conceive  it  thus : otherwise,  we  have  to  conceive 


THE  CONTINUITY  OF  MOTION 


159 


that  a power  is  changed  into  a space-relation , and  this  is  incon- 
ceivable. 

Here,  then,  is  the  solution  of  the  difficulty.  The  space- 
element  of  Motion  is  not  in  itself  a thing.  Change  of  position 
is  not  an  existence,  but  the  manifestation  of  an  existence.  This 
existence  may  cease  to  display  itself  as  translation;  but  it  can 
do  so  only  by  displaying  itself  as  strain.  And  this  principle 
of  activity,  now  shown  by  translation,  now  by  strain,  and  often 
by  the  two  together,  is  alone  that  which  in  Motion  we  can  call 
continuous. 

§ 58.  What  is  this  principle  of  activity?  Vision  gives  us 
no  idea  of  it.  If  by  a mirror  we  cast  the  image  of  an  illu- 
minated object  on  to  a dark  wall,  and  then  suddenly  changing 
the  attitude  of  the  mirror,  make  the  reflected  image  pass  from 
side  to  side,  the  image,  if  recognized  as  such,  does  not  raise  the 
thought  that  there  is  present  in  it  a principle  of  activity.  Be- 
fore we  can  conceive  the  presence  of  this,  we  must  regard  the 
impression  yielded  through  our  eyes  as  symbolizing  some- 
thing tangible  — something  which  offers  resistance.  Hence 
the  principle  of  activity  as  known  by  sight,  is  inferential : 
visible  translation  suggests  by  association  the  presence  of  a 
principle  of  activity  which  would  be  appreciable  by  our  skin 
and  muscles  did  we  lay  hold  of  the  body.  Evidently,  then,  this 
principle  of  activity  which  Motion  shows  us,  is  the  objective  cor- 
relate of  our  subjective  sense  of  effort.  By  pushing  and  pulling 
we  get  feelings  which,  generalized  and  .abstracted,  yield  our  ideas 
of  resistance  and  tension.  Now  displayed  by  changing  position 
and  now  by  'unchanging  strain,  this  principle  of  activity  is 
ultimately  conceived  by  us  under  the  single  form  of  its  equiva- 
lent muscular  effort.  So  that  the  continuity  of  Motion,  as  well 
as  the  indestructibility  of  Matter,  is  really  known  to  us  in  terms 
of  Force. 


§ 59.  And  now  we  reach  the  essential  truth  to  be  here  es- 
pecially noted.  All  proofs  of  the  Continuity  of  Motion  involve 
the  postulate  that  the  quantity  of  force  is  constant.  Observe 
what  results  when  we  analyze  the  reasonings  by  which  the  Con- 
tinuity of  Motion,  as  here  understood,  is  shown. 

A particular  planet  can  be  identified  only  by  its  constant 
power  to  affect  our  visual  organs  in  a special  way.  Further, 


160 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


such  planet  has  not  been  seen  to  move  by  the  astronomical  ob- 
server ; but  its  motion  is  inferred  from  a comparison  of  its  pres- 
ent position  with  the  position  it  before  occupied.  If  rigorously 
examined,  this  comparison  proves  to  be  a comparison  between 
the  different  impressions  produced  on  him  by  the  different  ad- 
justments of  his  observing  instruments.  And,  manifestly,  the 
validity  of  all  the  inferences  drawn  from  these  likenesses  and 
unlikenesses,  depends  on  the  truth  of  the  assumption  that  these 
masses  of  matter,  celestial  and  terrestrial,  will  continue  to  affect 
his  senses  in  exactly  the  same  ways  under  the  same  conditions; 
and  that  no  changes  in  their  powers  of  affecting  him  can  have 
arisen  without  force  having  been  expended  in  working  those 
changes.  Going  a step  further  back,  it  turns  out  that  difference 
in  the  adjustment  of  his  observing  instrument,  and  by  implica- 
tion in  the  planet,  is  meaningless  until  shown  to  correspond  with 
a certain  calculated  position  which  the  planet  must  occupy, 
supposing  that  no  motion  has  been  lost.  And  if,  finally,  we 
examine  the  implied  calculation,  we  find  that  it  takes  into  ac- 
count those  accelerations  and  retardations  which  ellipticity  of 
the  orbit  involves,  as  well  as  those  variations  of  velocity  caused 
by  adjacent  planets  — we  find,  that  is,  that  the  motion  is  con- 
cluded to  be  indestructible  not  from  the  uniform  velocity  of  the 
planet,  but  from  the  constant  quantity  of  motion  exhibited 
when  allowance  is  made  for  the  motion  communicated  to,  or 
received  from,  other  celestial  bodies.  And  when  we  ask  how 
this  communicated  motion  is  estimated,  we  discover  that  the 
estimate  is  based  on  certain  laws  of  force;  which  laws,  one  and 
all,  embody  the  postulate  that  force  cannot  be  destroyed.  With- 
out the  axiom  that  action  and  reaction  are  equal  and  opposite, 
astronomy  could  not  make  its  exact  predictions. 

Similarly  with  the  a,  priori  conclusion  that  Motion  is  con- 
tinuous. That  which  defies  suppression  in  thought,  is  really 
the  force  which  the  motion  indicates.  We  can  imagine  retarda- 
tion to  result  from  the  action  of  external  bodies.  But  to  imagine 
this,  is  not  possible  without  imagining  abstraction  of  the  force 
implied  by  the  motion.  We  are  obliged  to  conceive  this  force  as 
impressed  in  the  shape  of  reaction  on  the  bodies  that  cause  the 
arrest.  And  the  motion  communicated  to  them,  we  are  com- 
pelled to  regard,  not  as  directly  communicated,  but  as  a prod- 
uct of  the  communicated  force.  We  can  mentally  diminish 


THE  CONTINUITY  OF  MOTION 


161 


the  velocity  or  space-element  of  motion,  by  diffusing  the  momen- 
tum or  force-element  over  a larger  mass  of  matter;  but  the 
quantity  of  this  force-element,  which  we  regard  as  the  cause 
of  the  motion,  is  unchangeable  in  thought.1 

1 It  is  needful  to  state  that  this  exposition  differs  in  its  point  of  view 
from  the  expositions  ordinarily  given ; and  that  some  of  the  words  em- 
ployed, such  as  strain,  have  somewhat  larger  implications.  Unable  to 
learn  anything  about  the  nature  of  Force,  physicists  have,  of  late  years, 
formulated  ultimate  physical  truths  in  such  ways  as  often  tacitly  to 
exclude  the  consciousness  of  Force : conceiving  cause,  as  Hume  pro- 
posed, in  terms  of  antecedence  and  sequence  only.  “ Potential  energy,” 
for  example,  is  defined  as  constituted  by  such,  relations  in  space  as 
permit  masses  to  generate  in  one  another  certain  motions,  but  as  being 
in  itself  nothing.  While  this  mode  of  conceiving  the  phenomena  suffices 
for  physical  inquiries,  it  does  not  suffice  for  the  purposes  of  philosophy. 
After  referring  to  the  “Principles  of  Psychology,”  §§  347-350,  the 
reader  will  understand  what  I mean  by  saying  that  since  our  ideas  of 
Body,  Space,  Motion,  are  derived  from  our  ideas  of  muscular  tension, 
which  are  the  ultimate  symbols  into  which  all  our  other  mental  symbols 
are  interpretable,  to  formulate  phenomena  in  the  proximate  terms  of 
Body,  Space,  Motion,  while  discharging  from  the  concepts  the  conscious- 
ness of  Force,  is  to  acknowledge  the  superstructure  while  ignoring  the 
foundation. 


162 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  FORCE.1 

§ 60.  In  the  foregoing  two  chapters,  manifestations  of  force 
of  two  fundamentally-different  classes  have  been  dealt  with  — 
the  force  by  which  matter  demonstrates  itself  to  ns  as  existing, 
and  the  force  by  which  it  demonstrates  itself  to  us  as  acting. 

Body  is  distinguishable  from  space  by  its  power  of  affect- 
ing our  senses,  and,  in  the  last  resort,  by  its  opposition  to  our 
efforts.  We  can  conceive  of  body  only  by  joining  in  thought 
extension  and  resistance : take  away  resistance,  and  there  remains 
only  space.  In  what  way  this  force  which  produces  space- 
occupancy  is  conditioned  we  do  not  know.  The  mode  of  force 
which  is  revealed  to  us  only  by  opposition  to  our  own  powers,  may 
be  in  essence  the  same  with  the  mode  of  force  which  reveals 
itself  by  the  changes  it  initiates  in  our  consciousness.  That  the 
space  a body  occupies  is  in  part  determined  by  the  degree  of 
that  activity  possessed  by  its  molecules  which  we  call  heat,  is  a 
familiar  truth.  Moreover,  we  know  that  such  molecular  re- 
arrangement as  occurs  in  the  change  of  water  into  ice,  is  ac- 


1 Some  explanation  of  this  title  seems  needful.  In  the  text  itself  are 
given  the  reasons  for  using  the  word  “ force  ” instead  of  the  word 
“ energy  ” ; and  here  I must  say  why  I think  “ persistence  ” preferable 
to  “ conservation.”  Some  years  ago  I expressed  to  my  friend  Prof.  Hux- 
ley my  dissatisfaction  with  the  (then)  current  expression  — “Conserva- 
tion of  Force  ” : assigning  as  reasons,  first  that  the  word  “ conservation  ” 
implies  a conserver  and  an  act  of  conserving;  and,  second,  that  (A  does 
not  imply  the  existence  of  the  force  before  the  particular  manifestation  of 
it  which  is  contemplated.  And  I may  now  add,  as  a further  fault,  the 
tacit  assumption  that,  without  some  act  of  conservation,  force  would 
disappear.  All  these  implications  are  at  variance  with  the  conception 
to  be  conveyed.  In  place  of  “ conservation  ” Prof.  Huxley  suggested 
persistence.  This  meets  most  of  the  objections ; and  though  it  may  be 
urged  against  it  that  it  does  not  directly  imply  pre-existence  of  the  force 
at  any  time  manifested,  yet  no  other  word  less  faulty  in  this  respect  can 
be  found.  In  the  absence  of  a word  specially  coined  for  the  purpose,  it 
seems  the  best ; and  as  such  I adopt  it- 


THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  FORCE 


16E 


companied  by  an  evolution  of  force  which  may  burst  the  con- 
taining vessel  and  give  motion  to  the  fragments.  Nevertheless, 
the  forms  of  our  experience  oblige  us  to  distinguish  between  two 
modes  of  force ; the  one  not  a worker  of  change  and  the  other  a 
worker  of  change,  actual  or  potential.  The  first  of  these  — the 
space-occupying  kind  of  force  — has  no  specific  name. 

For  the  second  kind  of  force,  distinguishable  as  that  by  which 
change  is  either  being  caused  or  will  be  caused  if  counterbalanc- 
ing forces  are  overcome,  the  specific  name  now  accepted  is 
“ Energy/’  That  which  in  the  last  chapter  was  spoken  of  as 
perceptible  activity,  is  called,  by  physicists,  “ actual  energy  ” ; 
and  that  which  was  called  latent  activity  is  called  “ potential 
energy.”  While  including  the  mode  of  activity  shown- in  molar 
motion.  Energy  includes  also  the  several  modes  of  activity  into 
which  molar  motion  is  transformable  — heat,  light,  etc.  It  is 
the  common  name  for  the  power  shown  alike  in  the  movements 
of  masses  and  in  the  movements  of  molecules.  To  our  percep- 
tions this  second  kind  of  force  differs  from  the  first  kind  as 
being  not  intrinsic  but  extrinsic. 

In  aggregated  matter  as  presented  to  sight  and  touch,  this 
antithesis  is,  as  above  implied,  much  obscured.  Especially  in  a 
compound  substance,  both  the  potential  energy  locked  up  in  the 
chemically-combined  molecules,  and  the  actual  energy  made  per- 
ceptible to  us  as  heat,  complicate  the  manifestations  of  in- 
trinsic force  by  the  manifestations  of  extrinsic  force.  But  the 
antithesis  here  partially  hidden,  is  clearly  seen  on  reducing  the 
data  to  their  lowest  terms  — a unit  of  matter,  or  atom,  and  its 
motion.  The  force  by  which  it  exists  is  passive  but  independent ; 
while  the  force  by  which  it  moves  is  active  but  dependent  on  its 
past  and  present  relations  to  other  atoms.  These  two  cannot  be 
identified  in  our  thoughts.  For  as  it  is  impossible  to  think  of 
motion  without  something  that  moves;  so  it  is  impossible  to 
think  of  energy  without  something  possessing  the  energy. 

While  recognizing  this  fundamental  distinction  between  that 
intrinsic  force  by  which  body  manifests  itself  as  occupying  space, 
and  that  extrinsic  force  distinguished  as  energy ; I here  treat  of 
them  together  as  being  alike  persistent.  And  I thus  treat  of 
them  together  partly  for  the  reason  that,  in  our  consciousness 
of  them,  there  is  the  same  essential  element.  The  sense  of 
effort  is  our  subjective  symbol  for  objective  force  in  general, 


164 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


passive  and  active.  Power  of  neutralizing  that  which  we  know 
as  our  own  muscular  strain,  is  the  ultimate  element  in  our  idea 
of  body  as  distinguished  from  space;  and  any  energy  which  we 
can  give  to  body,  or  receive  from  it,  is  thought  of  as  equal  to  a 
certain  amount  of  muscular  strain.  The  two  consciousnesses 
differ  essentially  in  this,  that  the  feeling  of  effort  common  to 
the  two  is  in  the  last  case  joined  with  consciousness  of  change 
of  position,  but  in  the  first  case  is  not.1 

There  is,  however,  a further  and  more  important  reason 
for  here  dealing  with  the  truth  that  Force  under  each  of  these 
forms  persists.  We  have  to  examine  its  warrant. 

§ 61.  At  the  risk  of  trying  the  reader’s  patience,  we  must 
reconsider  the  reasoning  through  which  the  indestructibility  of 
Matter  and  the  continuity  of  Motion  are  established,  that  we 
may  see  how  impossible  it  is  to  arrive  by  parallel  reasoning  at 
the  Persistence  of  Force. 

In  all  three  cases  the  question  is  one  of  quantity : — does  the 
Matter,  or  Motion,  or  Force,  ever  diminish  in  quantity?  Quan- 
titative science  implies  measurement;  and  measurement  implies 
a unit  of  measure.  The  units  of  measure  from  which  all  others 
of  any  exactness  are  derived,  are  units  of  linear  extension.  Our 
units  of  linear  extension  are  the  lengths  of  masses  of  matter,  or 
the  spaces  between  marks  made  on  the  masses;  and  we  assume 
these  lengths,  or  these  spaces  between  marks,  to  remain  un- 
changed while  the  temperature  is  unchanged.  From  the  stan- 
dard-measure preserved  at  Westminster,  are  derived  the  meas- 

1 In  respect  to  the  fundamental  distinction  here  made  between  the 
space-occupying  kind  of  force,  and  the  kind  of  force  shown  by  various 
modes  of  activity,  I am,  as  in  the  last  chapter,  at  issue  with  some  of 
my  scientific  friends.  They  do  not  admit  that  the  conception  of  force 
is  involved  in  the  conception  of  a unit  of  matter.  From  the  psychological 
point  of  view,  however,  Matter,  in  all  its  properties,  is  the  unknown 
cause  of  the  sensations  it  produces  in  us ; of  which  the  one  which  remains 
when  all  the  others  are  absent,  is  resistance  to  our  efforts  — a resistance 
we  are  obliged  to  symbolize  as  the  equivalent  of  the  muscular  force  it 
opposes.  In  imagining  a unit  of  matter  we  may  not  ignore  this  symbol, 
by  which  alone  a unit  of  matter  can  be  figured  in  thought  as  an 
existence.  It  is  not  allowable  to  speak  as  though  there  remained  a con- 
ception of  an  existence  when  that  conception  has  been  eviscerated- — - 
deprived  of  the  element  of  thought  by  'which  it  is  distinguished  from 
empty  space.  Divest  the  conceived  unit  of  matter  of  the  objective 
correlate  to  our  subjective  sense  of  effort,  and  the  entire  fabric  of 
physical  conceptions  disappears. 


THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  FORCE 


165 


ures  for  trigonometrical  surveys,  for  geodesy,  the  measurement 
of  terrestrial  arcs,  and  the  calculations  of  astronomical  distances, 
dimensions,  etc.,  and  therefore  for  Astronomy  at  large.  Were 
these  units  of  length,  original  and  derived,  irregularly  variable, 
there  could  be  no  celestial  dynamics ; nor  anjr  of  that  verification 
yielded  by  it  of  the  constancy  of  the  celestial  masses  or  of  their 
energies.  Hence,  persistence  of  the  space-occupying  species  of 
force  cannot  be  proved ; for  the  reason  that  it  is  tacitly  assumed 
in  every  experiment  or  observation  by  which  it  is  proposed  to 
prove  it.  The  like  holds  of  the  force  distinguished  as  energy. 
The  endeavor  to  establish  this  by  measurement,  takes  for  granted 
both  the  persistence  of  the  intrinsic  force  by  which  body  mani- 
fests itself  as  existing  and  the  persistence  of  the  extrinsic  force 
by  which  body  acts.  For  it  is  from  these  equal  units  of  linear  ex- 
tension, through  the  medium  ot  the  equal-armed  lever  or  scales, 
that  we  derive  our  equal  units  of  weight,  or  gravitative  force; 
and  only  by  means  of  these  can  we  make  those  quantitative  com- 
parisons by  which  the  truths  of  exact  science  are  reached. 
Throughout  the  investigations  leading  the  chemist  to  the  con- 
clusion that  of  the  carbon  which  has  disappeared  during  com- 
bustion, no  portion  has  been  lost,  what  is  his  repeatedty-assigned 
proof?  That  afforded  by  the  scales.  In  what  terms  is  the 
verdict  of  the  scales  given  ? In  grains  — in  units  of  weight  — • 
in  units  of  gravitative  force.  And  what  is  the  total  content  of 
the  verdict?  That  as  many  units  of  gravitative  force  as  the 
carbon  exhibited  at  first,  it  exhibits  still.  The  validity  of  the 
inference,  then,  depends  entirely  upon  the  constancy  of  the  units 
of  force.  If  the  force  with  which  the  portion  of  metal  called  a 
grain-weight,  tends  toward  the  Earth,  has  varied,  the  inference 
that  matter  is  indestructible  is  vicious.  Everything  turns  on  the 
truth  of  the  assumption  that  the  gravitation  of  the  weights  is 
persistent ; and  of  this  no  proof  is  assigned,  or  can  be  assigned. 
In  the  reasonings  of  the  astronomer  there  is  a like  implication; 
from  which  we  may  draw  the  like  conclusion.  No  problem  in 
celestial  physics  can  be  solved  without  the  assumption  of  some 
unit  of  force.  This  unit  need  not  be,  like  a pound  or  a ton, 
one  of  which  we  can  take  direct  cognizance.  It  is  requisite  only 
that  the  mutual  attraction  which  some  two  of  the  bodies  con- 
cerned exercise  at  a given  distance,  should  be  taken  as  one; 
so  that  the  other  attractions  with  which  the  problem  deals,  may 


166 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


be  expressed  in  terms  of  this  one.  Such  unit  being  assumed, 
the  motions  which  the  respective  masses  will  generate  in  each 
other  in  a given  time,  are  calculated;  and  compounding  these 
with  the  motions  they  already  have,  their  places  at  the  end  of 
that  time  are  predicted.  The  prediction  is  verified  by  obser- 
vation. From  this,  either  of  two  inferences  may  be  drawn. 
Assuming  the  masses  to  be  unchanged,  their  energies,  actual  and 
potential,  may  be  proved  to  be  undiminished ; or  assuming  their 
energies  to  be  undiminished,  the  masses  may  be  proved  un- 
changed. But  the  validity  of  one  or  other  inference,  depends 
wholly  on  the  truth  of  the  assumption  that  the  unit  of  force  is 
unchanged.  Let  it  be  supposed  that  the  gravitation  of  the  two 
bodies  toward  each  other  at  the  given  distance,  has  varied,  and 
the  conclusions  drawn  are  no  longer  true.  Nor  is  it  only  in 
their  concrete  data  that  the  reasonings  of  terrestrial  and  celestial 
physics  assume  the  Persistence  of  Force.  The  equality  of  action 
and  reaction  is  taken  for  granted  from  beginning  to  end  of 
either  argument;  and  to  assert  that  action  and  reaction  are 
equal  and  opposite,  is  to  assert  that  Force  is  persistent.  The  al- 
legation really  amounts  to  this,  that  there  cannot  be  an  isolated 
force  beginning  and  ending  in  nothing;  but  that  any  force  mani- 
fested, implies  an  equal  antecedent  force  from  which  it  is  de- 
rived, and  against  which  it  is  a reaction. 

We  might  indeed  be  certain,  even  in  the  absence  of  any  such 
analysis  as  the  foregoing,  that  there  must  exist  some  principle 
which,  as  being  the  basis  of  science,  cannot  be  established  by 
science.  All  reasoned-out  conclusions  whatever  must  rest  on 
some  postulate.  As  before  shown  (§  23),  we  cannot  go  on  merg- 
ing derivative  truths  in  those  wider  and  wider  truths  from  which 
they  are  derived,  without  reaching  at  last  a widest  truth  which 
can  be  merged  in  no  other,  or  derived  from  no  other.  And 
whoever  contemplates  the  relation  in  which  it  stands  to  the 
truths  of  science  in  general,  will  see  that  this  truth  transcending 
demonstration  is  the  Persistence  of  Force. 

§ 62.  But  now  what  is  the  force  of  which  we  predicate  per- 
sistence ? It  is  not  the  force  we  are  immediately  conscious  of  in 
our  own  muscular  efforts ; for  this  does  not  persist.  As  soon  as 
an  outstretched  limb  is  relaxed,  the  sense  of  tension  disappears. 
True,  we  assert  that  in  the  stone  thrown  or  in  the  weight 


THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  FORCE 


167 


lifted,  is  exhibited  the  effect  of  this  muscular  tension;  and  that 
the  force  which  has  ceased  to  be  present  in  our  consciousness, 
exists  elsewhere.  But  it  does  not  exist  elsewhere  under  any 
form  cognizable  by  us.  In  § 18  we  saw  that  though,  on  raising 
an  object  from  the  ground,  we  are  obliged  to  think  of  its  down- 
ward pull  as  equal  and  opposite  to  our  upward  pull ; and  though 
it  is  impossible  to  represent  these  as  equal  without  representing 
them  as  like  in  kind;  yet,  since  their  likeness  in  kind  would 
imply  in  the  object  a sensation  of  muscular  tension,  which  can- 
not be  ascribed  to  it,  we  are  compelled  to  admit  that  force  as 
it  exists  out  of  our  consciousness,  is  not  force  as  we  know 
it.  Hence  the  force  of  which  we  assert  persistence  is  that 
Absolute  Force  of  which  we  are  indefinitely  conscious  as  the 
necessary  correlate  of  the  force  we  know.  By  the  Persistence 
of  Force,  we  really  mean  the  persistence  of  some  Cause  which 
transcends  our  knowledge  and  conception.  In  asserting  it  we 
assert  an  Unconditioned  Beality,  without  beginning  or  end. 

Thus,  quite  unexpectedly,  we  come  down  once  more  to  that 
ultimate  truth  in  which,  as  we  saw,  Beligion  and  Science 
coalesce.  On  examining  the  data  underlying  a rational  Theory 
of  Things,  we  find  them  all  at  last  resolvable  into  that  datum 
without  which  consciousness  was  shown  to  be  impossible  — the 
continued  existence  of  an  Unknowable  as  the  necessary  correla- 
tive of  the  Knowable. 

The  sole  truth  which  transcends  experience  by  underlying  it, 
is  thus  the  Persistence  of  Force.  This  being  the  basis  of  ex- 
perience, must  be  the  basis  of  any  scientific  organization  of  ex- 
periences. To  this  an  ultimate  analysis  brings  us  down;  and 
on  this  a rational  synthesis  must  build  up. 


1(38 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  RELATIONS  AMONG  FORCES. 

§ 63.  The  first  deduction  to  be  drawn  from  the  ultimate 
universal  truth  that  force  persists,  is  that  the  relations  among 
forces  persist.  Supposing  a given  manifestation  of  force,  under 
a given  form  and  given  conditions,  be  either  preceded  by  or  suc- 
ceeded by  some  other  manifestation,  it  must,  in  all  cases  where 
the  form  and  conditions  are  the  same,  be  preceded  by  or  suc- 
ceeded by  such  other  manifestation.  Every  antecedent  mode  of 
the  Unknowable  must  have  an  invariable  connection,  quantitative 
and  qualitative,  with  that  mode  of  the  Unknowable  which  we 
call  its  consequent. 

For  to  say  otherwise  is  to  deny  the  persistence  of  force.  If 
in  any  two  cases  there  is  exact  likeness  not  only  between  those 
most  conspicuous  antecedents  which  we  distinguish  as  the 
causes,  but  also  between  those  accompanying  antecedents  which 
we  call  the  conditions,  we  cannot  affirm  that  the  effects  will 
differ,  without  affirming  either  that  some  force  has  come  into 
existence  or  that  some  force  has  ceased  to  exist.  If  the  co- 
operative forces  in  the  one  case  are  equal  to  those  in  the  other, 
each  to  each,  in  distribution  and  amount;  then  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive  the  product  of  their  joint  action  in  the  one  case  as 
unlike  that  in  the  other,  without  conceiving  one  or  more  of  the 
forces  to  have  increased  or  diminished  in  quantity;  and  this  is 
conceiving  that  force  is  not  persistent. 

To  impress  the  truth  here  enunciated  under  its  most  ab- 
stract form,  some  illustrations  will  be  desirable. 

§ 64.  Let  two  equal  bullets  be  projected  with  equal  forces; 
then,  in  equal  times,  equal  distances  must  be  travelled  by 
them.  The  assertion  that  one  of  them  will  describe  an  as- 
signed space  sooner  than  the  other,  though  their  initial  mo- 
menta were  alike  and  they  have  been  equally  resisted  (for  if  they 


THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  RELATIONS  AMONG  FORCES  169 


are  unequally  resisted  the  antecedents  differ) , is  an  assertion  that 
equal  quantities  of  force  have  not  done  equal  amounts  of  work; 
and  this  cannot  be  thought  without  thinking  that  some  force 
has  disappeared  into  nothing  or  arisen  out  of  nothing.  Assume, 
further,  that  during  its  flight,  one  of  them  has  been  drawn  by 
the  Earth  a certain  number  of  inches  out  of  its  original  line  of 
movement ; then  the  other,  which  has  moved  the  same  distance  in 
the  same  time,  must  have  fallen  just  as  far  toward  the  Earth. 
No  other  result  can  be  imagined  without  imagining  that  equal 
attractions  acting  for  equal  times,  have  produced  unequal  ef- 
fects, which  involves  the  inconceivable  proposition  that  some  ac- 
tion has  been  created  or  annihilated.  Again,  one  of  the  bullets 
having  penetrated  the  target  to  a certain  depth,  penetration  by 
the  other  bullet  to  a smaller  depth,  unless  caused  by  altered  shape 
of  the  bullet  or  greater  local  density  in  the  target,  cannot  be 
mentally  represented.  Such  a modification  of  the  consequents 
without  modification  of  the  antecedents,  is  thinkable  only 
through  the  impossible  thought  that  something  has  become  noth- 
ing or  nothing  has  become  something. 

It  is  thus  not  with  sequences  only,  but  also  with  simultaneous 
changes  and  permanent  co-existences.  Given  charges  of  powder 
alike  in  quantity  and  quality,  fired  from  barrels  of  the  same 
structure,  and  propelling  bullets  of  equal  weights,  sizes  and 
forms,  similarly  rammed  down;  and  it  is  a necessary  inference 
that  the  concomitant  actions  which  make  up  the  explosion,  will 
bear  to  one  another  like  relations  of  quantity  and  quality  in  the 
two  cases.  The  proportions  among  the  different  products  of 
combustion  will  be  equal.  The  several  amounts  of  force 
taken  up  in  giving  momentum  to  the  bullet,  heat  to  the 
gases,  and  sound  on  their  escape,  will  preserve  the  same  ratios. 
The  quantities  of  light  and  smoke  in  the  one  case  will  be  what 
they  are  in  the  other ; and  the  two  recoils  will  be  alike.  For  no 
difference  of  proportion,  or  no  difference  of  relation,  among  these 
concurrent  phenomena  can  be  imagined  as  arising,  without 
imagining  such  difference  of  proportion  or  relation  as  arising 
uncaused  — as  arising  by  the  creation  or  annihilation  of  force. 

That  vhi  ’ . here  holds  between  two  cases  must  hold  among 
any  number  of  cases;  and  that  which  here  holds  between  ante- 
cedents and  consequents  that  are  comparatively  simple,  must 


170 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


hold  however  involved  the  antecedents  become  and  however  in- 
volved the  consequents  become. 

§ 65.  Thus  what  we  call  uniformity  of  law,  resolvable  as  we 
find  it  into  the  persistence  of  relations  among  forces,  is  an 
immediate  corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force.  The  general 
conclusion  that  there  exist  constant  connections  among  phe- 
nomena, ordinarily  regarded  as  an  inductive  conclusion  only,  is 
really  a conclusion  deducible  from  the  ultimate  datum  of  con- 
sciousness. Though,  in  saying  this,  we  seem  to  be  illegitimate- 
ly inferring  that  what  is  true  of  the  ego  is  also  true  of  the  non- 
ego; yet  here  this  inference  is  legitimate.  For  that  which  we 
thus  predicate  as  holding  in  common  of  ego  and  non-ego , is  that 
which  they  have  in  common  as  being  both  existences.  The  as- 
sertion of  an  existence  beyond  consciousness,  is  itself  an  asser- 
tion that  there  is  something  beyond  consciousness  which  persists; 
for  persistence  is  nothing  more  than  continued  existence,  and 
existence  cannot  be  thought  of  as  other  than  continued.  And 
we  cannot  assert  persistence  of  this  something  beyond  conscious- 
ness, without  asserting  that  the  relations  among  its  manifesta- 
tions are  persistent. 

That  uniformity  of  law  thus  follows  inevitably  from  the 
persistence  of  force,  will  become  more  and  more  clear  as  we 
advance.  The  next  chapter  will  indirectly  supply  abundant 
illustrations  of  it. 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  171 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES. 

§ 66.  When,  to  the  unaided  senses.  Science  began  to  add 
supplementary  senses  in  the  shape  of  measuring  instruments, 
men  began  to  perceive  various  phenomena  which  eyes  and  fingers 
could  not  distinguish.  Of  known  forms  of  force,  minuter  man- 
ifestations became  appreciable;  and  forms  of  force  before  un- 
known were  rendered  cognizable  and  measurable.  Where  forces 
had  apparently  ended  in  nothing,  and  had  been  carelessly  sup- 
posed to  have  actually  done  so,  instrumental  observation  proved 
that  effects  had  in  every  instance  been  produced : the  forces  re- 
appearing in  new  shapes.  Hence  there  has  at  length  arisen  the 
inquiry  whether  the  force  displayed  in  each  surrounding  change, 
does  not  in  the  act  of  expenditure  undergo  metamorphosis  into 
an  equivalent  amount  of  some  other  force  or  forces.  And  to 
this  inquiry  experiment  is  giving  an  affirmative  answer  which 
becomes  daily  more  decisive.  Meyer,  Joule,  Grove  and  Helm- 
holtz are  more  than  any  others  to  be  credited  with  the  clear 
enunciation  of  this  doctrine.  Let  us  glance  at  the  evidence  on 
which  it  rests. 

Motion,  wherever  we  can  directly  trace  its  genesis,  we  find 
to  pre-exist  as  some  other  mode  of  force.  Our  own  voluntary 
acts  have  always  certain  sensations  of  muscular  tension  as  their 
antecedents.  When,  as  in  letting  fall  a relaxed  limb,  we  are 
conscious  of  a bodily  movement  requiring  no  effort,  the  ex- 
planation is  that  the  effort  was  exerted  in  raising  the  limb  to  the 
position  whence  it  fell.  In  this  case,  as  in  the  case  of  an  inani- 
mate body  descending  to  the  Earth,  the  force  accumulated  by  the 
downward  motion  is  just  equal  to  the  force  previously  expended 
in  the  act  of  elevation.  Conversely,  Motion  that  is  arrested 
produces,  under  different  circumstances,  heat,  electricity,  mag- 
netism, light.  From  the  warming  of  the  hands  by  rubbing  them 


172 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


together,  up  to  the  ignition  of  a railway-brake  by  intense  fric- 
tion — from  the  lighting  of  detonating  powder  by  percussion,  up 
to  the  setting  on  fire  a block  of  wood  by  a few  blows  from  a 
steam-hammer ; we  have  abundant  instances  in  which  heat  arises 
as  Motion  ceases.  It  is  uniformly  found,  that  the  heat  gen- 
erated is  great  in  proportion  as  the  Motion  lost  is  great;  and 
that  to  diminish  the  arrest  of  motion,  by  diminishing  the  fric- 
tion, is  to  diminish  the  quantity  of  heat  evolved.  The  produc- 
tion of  electricity  by  Motion  is  illustrated  equally  in  the  boy’s 
experiment  with  rubbed  sealing-wax,  in  the  common  electrical 
machine,  and  in  the  apparatus  for  exciting  electricity  by  the 
escape  of  steam.  Wherever  there  is  friction  between  hetero- 
geneous bodies,  electrical  disturbance  is  one  of  the  consequences. 
Magnetism  may  result  from  Motion  either  immediately,  as 
through  percussion  on  iron,  or  mediately,  as  through  electric 
currents  previously  generated  by  Motion.  And  similarly,  Mo- 
tion may  create  light;  either  directly,  as  in  the  minute  incandes- 
cent fragments  struck  off  by  violent  collisions,  or  indirectly, 
as  through  the  electric  spark.  “ Lastty,  Motion  may  be  again  re- 
produced by  the  forces  which  have  emanated  from  Motion ; thus, 
the  divergence  of  the  electrometer,  the  revolution  of  the  elec- 
trical wheel,  the  deflection  of  the  magnetic  needle,  are,  when  re- 
sulting from  frictional  electricity,  palpable  movements  repro- 
duced by  the  intermediate  modes  of  force,  which  have  themselves 
been  originated  by  motion.” 

That  mode  of  force  which  we  distinguish  as  Heat,  is  now 
generally  regarded  by  physicists  as  molecular  motion  — not  mo- 
tion as  displayed  in  the  changed  relations  of  sensible  masses  to 
each  other,  but  as  occurring  among  the  units  of  which  such  sen- 
sible masses  consist.  If  we  cease  to  think  of  Heat  as  that  par- 
ticular sensation  given  to  us  by  bodies  in  certain  conditions,  and 
consider  the  phenomena  otherwise  presented  by  these  bodies,  we 
find  that  motion,  either  in  them  or  in  surrounding  bodies,  or  in 
both,  is  all  that  we  have  evidence  of.  With  one  or  two  ex- 
ceptions which  are  obstacles  to  every  theory  of  Heat,  heated 
bodies  expand ; and  expansion  can  be  interpreted  only  as  a 
movement  of  the  units  of  a mass  in  relation  to  each  other.  That 
so-called  radiation  through  which  anything  of  higher  tem- 
perature than  things  around  it,  communicates  Heat  to  them,  is 
clearly  a species  of  motion.  Moreover,  the  evidence  afforded  by 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  173 

the  thermometer  that  Heat  thus  diffuses  itself,  is  simply  a move- 
ment caused  in  the  mercurial  column.  And  that  the  molecular 
motion  which  we  call  Heat,  may  be  transformed  into  visible 
motion,  familiar  proof  is  given  by  the  steam-engine;  in  which 
“ the  piston  and  all  its  concomitant  masses  of  matter  are  moved 
by  the  molecular  dilatation  of  the  vapor  of  water.”  Where 
Heat  is  absorbed  without  apparent  result,  modem  inquiries  show 
that  decided  though  unobtrusive  changes  are  produced:  as  on 
glass,  the  molecular  state  of  which  is  so  far  changed  by  heat,  that 
a polarized  ray  of  light  passing  through  it  becomes  visible,  which 
it  does  not  do  when  the  glass  is  cold ; or  as  on  polished  metallic 
surfaces,  which  are  so  far  changed  in  structure  by  thermal  ra- 
diations from  objects  very  close  to  them,  as  to  retain  permanent 
impressions  of  such  objects.  The  transformation  of  Heat  into 
electricity,  occurs  when  dissimilar  metals  touching  each  other 
are  heated  at  the  point  of  contact : electric  currents  being  so  in- 
duced. Solid,  incombustible  matter  introduced  into  heated  gas, 
as  lime  into  the  oxy-hydrogen  flame,  becomes  incandescent;  and 
so  exhibits  the  conversion  of  Heat  into  light.  The  production 
of  magnetism  by  Heat,  if  it  cannot  be  proved  to  take  place  di- 
rectly, may  be  proved  to  take  place  indirectly  through  the 
medium  of  electricity.  And  through  the  same  medium  may  be 
established  the  correlation  of  Heat  and  chemical  affinity  — ■ a 
correlation  which  is  indeed  implied  by  the  marked  influence  that 
Heat  exercises  on  chemical  composition  and  decomposition. 

The  transformations  of  Electricity  into  other  modes  of  force, 
are  still  more  clearly  demonstrable.  Produced  by  the-  motion 
of  heterogeneous  bodies  in  contact.  Electricity,  through  attrac- 
tions and  repulsions,  will  immediately  reproduce  motion  in 
neighboring  bodies.  How  a current  of  Electricity  generates 
magnetism  in  a bar  of  soft  iron ; and  now  the  rotation  of  a per- 
manent magnet  generates  currents  of  Electricity.  Here  we 
have  a battery  in  which  from  the  play  of  chemical  affinities  an 
electric  current  results ; and  there,  in  the  adjacent  cell,  we  have 
an  electric  current  effecting  chemical  decomposition.  In  the 
conducting  wire  we  witness  the  transformation  of  Electricity  in- 
to heat;  while  in  electric  sparks  and  in  the  voltaic  arc  we  see 
light  produced.  Atomic  arrangement,  too,  is  changed  by  Elec- 
tricity: as  instance  the  transfer  of  matter  from  pole  to  pole  of 
r battery;  the  fractures  caused  by  the  disruntivp  discharge;  the 


174 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


formation  of  crystals  under  the  influence  of  electric  currents. 
And  whether,  conversely,  Electricity  be  or  be  not  directly  gen- 
erated by  rearrangement  of  the  atoms  of  matter,  it  is  at  any  rate 
indirectly  so  generated  through  the  intermediation  of  mag- 
netism. 

How  from  Magnetism  the  other  physical  forces  result,  must 
be  next  briefly  noted  — briefly,  because  in  each  successive  case 
the  illustrations  become  in  great  part  the  obverse  forms  of  those 
before  given.  That  Magnetism  produces  motion  is  the  ordinary 
evidence  we  have  of  its  existence.  In  the  magneto-electric  ma- 
chine we  see  a rotating  magnet  evolving  electricity.  And  the 
electricity  so  evolved  may  immediately  after  exhibit  itself  as 
heat,  light,  or  chemical  affinity.  Faraday’s  discovery  of  the 
effect  of  Magnetism  on  polarized  light,  as  well  as  the  discovery 
that  change  of  magnetic  state  is  accompanied  by  heat,  point  to 
further  like  connections.  Lastly,  various  experiments  show  that 
the  magnetization  of  a body  alters  its  internal  structure;  and 
that  conversely,  the  alteration  of  its  internal  structure,  as  by 
mechanical  strain,  alters  its  magnetic  condition. 

Improbable  as  it  seemed,  it  is  now  proved  that  from  Light 
also  may  proceed  the  like  variety  of  agencies.  The  solar  rays 
change  the  atomic  arrangements  of  particular  crystals.  Cer- 
tain mixed  gases,  which  do  not  otherwise  combine,  combine  in 
the  sunshine.  In  some  compounds  Light  produces  decompo- 
sition.  Since  the  inquiries  of  photographers  have  drawn  atten- 
tion to  the  subject,  it  has  been  shown  that  “ a vast  number  of 
substances,  both  elementary  and  compound,  are  notably  affected 
by  this  agent,  even  those  apparently  the  most  unalterable  in 
character,  such  as  metals.”  And  when  a daguerreotype  plate  is 
connected  with  a proper  apparatus  “ we  get  chemical  action  on 
the  plate,  electricity  circulating  through  the  wires,  magnetism  in 
the  coil,  heat  in  the  helix,  and  motion  in  the  needles.” 

The  genesis  of  all  other  modes  of  force  from  Chemical  Action, 
scarcely  needs  pointing  out.  The  ordinary  accompaniment  of 
chemical  combination  is  heat ; and  when  the  affinities  are  intense, 
light  also  is,  under  fit  conditions,  produced.  Chemical  changes 
involving  alteration  of  bulk,  cause  motion,  both  in  the  com- 
bining elements  and  in  adjacent  masses  of  matter:  witness  the 
propulsion  of  a bullet  by  the  explosion  of  gunpowder.  In  the 
galvanic  battery  we  see  electricity  resulting  from  chemical  com- 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  175 

position  and  decomposition.  While  through  the  medium  of 
this  electricity,  Chemical  Action  produces  magnetism. 

These  facts,  the  larger  part  of  which  are  culled  from  Mr. 
Grove’s  work  on  “ The  Correlation  of  Physical  Forces,”  show  us 
that  each  force  is  transformable,  directly  or  indirectly,  into  the 
others.  In  every  change  Force  undergoes  metamorphosis;  and 
from  the  new  form  or  forms  it  assumes,  may  subsequently  result 
either  the  previous  one  or  any  of  the  rest,  in  endless  variety  of 
order  and  combination.  It  is  further  becoming  manifest  that  the 
physical  forces  stand  not  simply  in  qualitative  correlations  with 
each  other,  but  also  in  quantitative  correlations.  Besides  prov- 
ing that  one  mode  of  force  may  be  transformed  into  another 
mode,  experiments  illustrate  the  truth  that  from  a definite 
amount  of  one,  definite  amounts  of  others  always  arise.  Ordi- 
narily it  is  indeed  difficult  to  show  this ; since  it  mostly  happens 
that  the  transformation  of  any  force  is  not  into  some  one  of 
the  rest  but  into  several  of  them:  the  proportions  being  de- 
termined by  the  ever-varying  conditions.  But  in  certain  cases, 
positive  results  have  been  reached.  Mr.  Joule  has  ascertained 
that  the  fall  of  772  lbs.  through  one  foot,  will  raise  the  tem- 
perature of  a pound  of  water  one  degree  of  Fahrenheit.  The 
investigations  of  Dulong,  Petit  and  Neumann,  have  proved  a re- 
lation in  amount  between  the  affinities  of  combining  bodies  and 
the  heat  evolved  during  their  combination.  Between  chemical 
action  and  voltaic  electricity,  a quantitative  connection  has  also 
been  established : Faraday’s  experiments  implying  that  a specific 
measure  of  electricity  is  disengaged  by  a given  measure  of 
chemical  action.  The  well-determined  relations  between  the 
quantities  of  heat  generated  and  water  turned  into  steam,  or 
still  better  the  known  expansion  produced  in  steam  by  each 
additional  degree  of  heat,  may  be  cited  in  further  evidence. 
Whence  it  is  no  longer  doubted  that  among  the  several  forms 
which  force  assumes,  the  quantitative  relations  are  fixed.  The 
conclusion  tacitly  agreed  on  by  physicists,  is,  not  only  that  the 
physical  forces  undergo  metamorphoses,  but  that  a certain 
amount  of  each  is  the  constant  equivalent  of  certain  amounts  of 
the  others. 

§ 67.  Everywhere  throughout  the  Cosmos  this  truth  must 
invariably  hold.  Every  successive  change,  or  group  of  changes, 


176 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


going  on  in  it,  must  be  due  to  forces  affiliable  on  the  like  or  un- 
like forces  previously  existing;  while  from  the  forces  exhibited 
in  such  change  or  changes  must  be  derived  others  more  or  less 
transformed.  And  besides  recognizing  this  necessary  linking  of 
the  forces  at  any  time  manifested,  with  those  preceding  and  suc- 
ceeding them,  we  must  recognize  the  amounts  of  these  forces  as 
determinate  — as  necessarily  producing  such  and  such  quantities 
of  results,  and  as  necessarily  limited  to  those  quantities. 

That  unification  of  knowledge  which  is  the  business  of  Phi- 
losophy, is  but  little  furthered  by  the  establishment  of  this  truth 
under  its  general  form.  We  must  trace  it  out  under  its  leading 
special  forms.  Changes,  and  the  accompanying  transformations 
of  forces,  are  everywhere  in  progress,  from  the  movements  of 
stars  to  the  currents  of  our  thoughts ; and  to  comprehend,  in  any 
adequate  way,  the  meaning  of  the  great  fact  that  forces,  unceas- 
ingly metamorphosed,  are  nowhere  increased  or  decreased,  it  is 
requisite  for  us  to  comtemplate  the  various  orders  of  changes 
going  on  around,  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  whence  arise  the 
forces  they  imply  and  what  becomes  of  these  forces.  Of  course 
if  answerable  at  all,  these  questions  can  be  answered  only  in  the 
rudest  way.  We  cannot  hope  to  establish  equivalence  among  the 
successive  manifestations  of  force.  The  most  we  can  hope  is  to 
establish  a qualitative  correlation  that  is  indefinitely  quantitative 
- — - quantitative  to  the  extent  of  involving  something  like  a due 
proportion  between  causes  and  effects.  Let  us,  with  the  view  of 
trying  to  do  this,  consider  in  succession  the  several  classes  of 
phenomena  which  the  several  concrete  sciences  deal  with. 

§ 68.  The  antecedents  of  those  forces  which  our  Solar  Sys- 
tem displays,  belong  to  a past  of  which  we  can  never  have  any- 
thing but  inferential  knowledge;  and  at  present  we  cannot  be 
said  to  have  even  this.  Numerous  and  strong  as  are  the  rea- 
sons for  believing  the  Nebular  Hypothesis,  we  cannot  yet  regard 
it  as  more  than  a hypothesis.  If,  however,  we  assume  that  the 
matter  composing  the  Solar  System  once  existed  in  a diffused 
state,  we  have,  in  the  gravitation  of  its  parts,  a force  adequate  to 
produce  the  motions  now  going  on. 

Masses  of  precipitated  nebulous  matter,  moving  toward  their 
common  centre  of  gravity  through  the  resisting  medium  from 
which  they  were  precipitated,  will  inevitably  cause  a general  ro- 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  177 

tation,  increasing  in  rapidity  as  the  concentration  progresses. 
So  far  as  the  evidence  carries  us,  we  perceive  some  quantitative 
relation  between  the  motions  so  generated  and  the  gravitative 
forces  expended  in  generating  them.  The  planets  formed  from 
that  matter  which  has  travelled  the  shortest  distance  toward  the 
common  centre  of  gravity,  have  the  smallest  velocities.  Doubt- 
less this  is  explicable  on  the  teleological  hypothesis ; since  it  is  a 
condition  to  equilibrium.  But  without  insisting  that  this  is  be- 
side the  question,  it  will  suffice  to  point  out  that  the  like  cannot 
be  said  of  the  planetary  rotations.  No  such  final  cause  can  be 
assigned  for  the  rapid  axial  movement  of  Jupiter  and  Saturn, 
or  the  slow  axial  movement  of  Mercury.  If,  however,  in  pur- 
suance of  the  doctrine  of  transformation,  we  look  for  the  ante- 
cedents of  these  gyrations  which  all  planets  exhibit,  the  nebular 
hypothesis  furnishes  us  with  antecedents  which  bear  manifest 
quantitative  relations  to  the  motions  displayed.  For  the  planets 
that  turn  on  their  axes  with  extreme  rapidity,  are  those  having 
great  masses  and  large  orbits  — those,  that  is,  of  which  the  once 
diffused  elements  moved  to  their  centres  of  gravity  through  im- 
mense spaces,  and  so  acquired  high  velocities.  While,  con- 
versely, the  planets  which  rotate  with  the  smallest  velocities,  are 
those  formed  out  of  the  smallest  nebulous  rings  — a relation  still 
better  shown  by  statellites. 

“ But  what/’  it  may  be  asked,  “ has  in  such  case  become  of 
all  that  motion  which  brought  about  the  aggregation  of  this 
diffused  matter  into  solid  bodies  ? ” The  answer  is  that  it  has 
been  radiated  in  the  form  of  heat  and  light ; and  this  answer  the 
evidence,  so  far  as  it  goes,  confirms.  Geologists  conclude  that 
the  heat  of  the  Earth’s  still  molten  nucleus  is  but  a remnant  of 
the  heat  which  once  made  molten  the  entire  Earth.  The  moun- 
tainous surfaces  of  the  Moon  and  of  Venus  (which  alone  are 
near  enough  to  be  scrutinized),  indicating,  as  they  do,  crusts  that 
have,  like  our  own,  been  corrugated  by  contraction,  imply  that 
these  bodies  too  have  undergone  refrigeration.  Lastly,  we  have 
in  the  Sun  a still-continued  production  of  this  heat  and  light, 
which  must  result  from  the  arrest  of  diffused  matter  moving  to- 
ward a common  centre  of  gravity.  Here  also,  as  before,  a 
quantitative  relation  is  traceable.  Among  the  bodies  which 
make  up  the  Solar  System,  those  containing  comparatively  small 
amounts  of  matter  whose  centripetal  motion  has  been  destroyed, 


178 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


have  already  lost  nearly  all  the  produced  heat:  a result  which 
their  relatively  larger  surfaces  have  facilitated.  But  the  Sun,  a 
thousand  times  as  great  in  mass  as  the  largest  planet,  and  having 
therefore  to  give  off  an  enormously  greater  quantity  of  heat  and 
light  due  to  arrest  of  moving  matter,  is  still  radiating  with  great 
intensity. 

§ 69.  If  we  inquire  the  origin  of  those  forces  which  have 
wrought  the  surface  of  our  planet  into  its  present  shape,  we  find 
them  traceable  to  the  primordial  source  just  assigned.  Assum- 
ing the  solar  system  to  have  arisen  as  above  supposed,  then 
geologic  changes  are  either  direct  or  indirect  results  of  the  un- 
expended heat  caused  by  nebular  condensation.  These  changes 
are  commonly  divided  into  igneous  and  aqueous  — heads  under 
which  we  may  most  conveniently  consider  them. 

All  those  periodic  disturbances  which  we  call  earthquakes,  all 
those  elevations  and  subsidences  which  they  severally  produce, 
all  those  accumulated  effects  of  many  such  elevations  and  sub- 
sidences exhibited  in  ocean-basins,  islands,  continents,  table- 
lands, mountain-chains,  and  all  those  formations  which  are  dis- 
tinguished as  volcanic,  geologists  now  regard  as  modifications 
of  the  Earth’s  crust  produced  by  the  still-molten  matter  occupy- 
ing its  interior.  However  untenable  may  be  the  details  of  M. 
Elie  de  Beaumont’s  theory,  there  is  good  reason  to  accept  the 
general  proposition  that  the  disruptions  and  variations  of  level 
which  take  place  at  intervals  on  the  terrestrial  surface,  are  due 
to  the  progressive  collapse  of  the  Earth’s  solid  envelope  upon 
its  cooling  and  contracting  nucleus.  Even  supposing  that  vol- 
canic eruptions,  extrusions  of  igneous  rock,  and  upheaved  moun- 
tain-chains, could  be  otherwise  satisfactorily  accounted  for,  which 
they  cannot;  it  would  be  impossible  otherwise  to  account  for 
those  widespread  elevations  and  depressions  whence  continents 
and  oceans  result.  The  conclusion  to  be  drawn  is,  then,  that 
the  forces  displayed  in  these  so-called  igneous  changes,  are  de- 
rived positively  or  negatively  from  the  unexpended  heat  of  the 
Earth’s  interior.  Such  phenomena  as  the  fusion  or  agglutina- 
tion of  sedimentary  deposits,  the  warming  of  springs,  the  sub- 
limation of  metals  into  the  fissures  where  we  find  them  as  ores, 
may  be  regarded  as  positive  results  of  this  residuary  heat ; while 
fractures  of  strata  and  alterations  of  level  are  its  negative  re- 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  179 

suits,  since  they  ensue  on  its  escape.  The  original  cause  of  all 
these  effects  is  still,  however,  as  it  has  been  from  the  first,  the 
gravitating  movement  of  the  Earth’s  matter  toward  the  Earth’s 
centre;  seeing  that  to  this  is  due  both  the  internal  heat  itself 
and  the  collapse  which  takes  place  as  it  is  radiated  into  space. 

When  we  inquire  under  what  forms  previously  existed  the 
force  which  works  out  the  geological  changes  classed  as  aqueous, 
the  answer  is  less  obvious.  The  effects  of  rain,  of  rivers,  of 
winds,  of  waves,  of  marine  currents,  do  not  manifestly  proceed 
from  one  general  source.  Analysis,  nevertheless,  proves  to  us 
that  they  have  a common  genesis.  If  we  ask  — Whence  comes 
the  power  of  the  river-current,  bearing  sediment  down  to  the 
sea  ? the  reply  is  — The  gravitation  of  water  throughout  the 
tract  which  this  river  drains.  If  we  ask  — How  came  the  water 
to  be  dispersed  over  this  tract  ? the  reply  is  — It  fell  in  the 
shape  of  rain.  If  we  ask  — How  came  the  rain  to  be  in  that 
position  whence  it  fell  ? the  reply  is  — The  vapor  from  which 
it  was  condensed  was  drifted  there  by  the  winds.  If  we  ask  — 
How  came  this  vapor  to  be  at  that  elevation  ? the  reply  is  — 
It  was  raised  by  evaporation.  And  if  we  ask  — What  force  thus 
raised  it  ? the  reply  is  — The  sun’s  heat.  J ust  that  amount 
of  gravitative  force  which  the  sun’s  heat  overcame  in  raising  the 
atoms  of  water,  is  given  out  again  in  the  fall  of  those  atoms 
to  the  same  level.  Hence  the  denudations  effected  by  rain  and 
rivers,  during  the  descent  of  this  condensed  vapor  to  the  level 
of  the  sea,  are  indirectly  due  to  the  sun’s  heat.  Similarly  with 
the  winds  that  transport  the  vapor  hither  and  thither.  Conse- 
quent as  atmospheric  currents  are  on  differences  of  temperature 
(either  general,  as  between  the  equatorial  and  polar  regions,  or 
special,  as  between  tracts  of  the  Earth’s  surface  of  unlike  phys- 
ical characters),  all  such  currents  are  due  to  that  source  from 
which  the  varying  quantities  of  heat  proceed.  And  if  the  winds 
thus  originate,  so  too  do  the  waves  raised  by  them  on  the  sea’s 
surface.  Whence  it  follows  that  whatever  changes  waves  pro- 
duce— the  wearing  away  of  shores,  the  breaking  down  of  rocks 
into  shingle,  sand,  and  mud  — are  also  traceable  to  the  solar 
rays  as  their  primary  cause.  The  same  may  be  said  of  ocean- 
currents.  Generated  as  the  larger  ones  are  by  the  excess  of  heat 
which  the  ocean  in  tropical  climates  continually  acquires  from 
the  Sun;  and  generated  as  the  smaller  ones  are  by  minor  local 


ISO 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


differences  in  the  quantities  of  solar  heat  absorbed;  it  follows 
that  the  distribution  of  sediment  and  other  geological  processes 
which  these  marine  currents  effect,  are  affiliable  upon  the  force 
which  the  sun  radiates.  The  only  aqueous  agency  otherwise 
originating  is  that  of  the  tides  — an  agency  which,  equally  with 
the  others,  is  traceable  to  unexpended  astronomical  motion.  But 
making  allowance  for  the  changes  which  this  works,  we  reach 
the  conclusion  that  the  slow  wearing  down  of  continents  and 
gradual  filling  up  of  seas,  by  rain,  rivers,  winds,  waves,  and 
ocean-streams,  are  the  indirect  effects  of  solar  heat. 

Thus  the  inference  forced  on  us  by  the  doctrine  of  trans- 
formation, that  the  forces  which  have  molded  and  remolded  the 
Earth’s  crust  must  have  pre-existed  under  some  other  shape, 
presents  no  difficulty  if  nebular  genesis  be  granted;  since  this 
presupposes  certain  forces  that  are  both  adequate  to  the  results, 
and  cannot  be  expended  without  producing  the  results.  We 
see  that  while  the  geological  changes  classed  as  igneous,  arise 
from  the  still-progressing  motion  of  the  Earth’s  substance  to 
its  centre  of  gravity;  the  antagonistic  changes  classed  as  aque- 
ous, . arise  from  the  still-progressing  motion  of  the  Sun’s  sub- 
stance toward  its  centre  of  gravity  — a motion  which,  trans- 
formed into  heat  and  radiated  to  us,  is  here  retransformed, 
directly  into  motions  of  the  gaseous  and  liquid  matters  on  the 
Earth’s . surface,  and  indirectly  into  motions  of  the  solid  mat- 
ters. 


§ 70.  That  the  forces  exhibited  in  vital  actions,  vegetal 
and  animal,  are  similarly  derived,  is  so  obvious  a deduction 
from  the  facts  of  organic  chemistry,  that  it  will  meet  with 
ready  acceptance  from  readers  acquainted  with  these  facts.  Let 
us  note  first  the  physiological  generalizations ; and  then  the  gen- 
eralizations which  they  necessitate. 

Plant-life  is  all  directly  or  indirectly  dependent  on  the  heat 
and  light  of  the  sun  — directly  dependent  in  the  immense 
majority  of  plants,  and  indirectly  dependent  in  plants  which, 
as  the  fungi,  flourish  in  the  dark:  since  these,  growing  as 
they  do  at  the  expense  of  decaying  organic  matter,  mediately 
draw  their  forces  from  the  same  original  source.  Each  plant 
owes  the  carbon  and  hydrogen  of  which  it  mainly  consists, 
to  the  carbonic  acid  and  water  contained  in  the  surrounding 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  181 

air  and  earth.  The  carbonic  acid  and  water  must,  however, 
be  decomposed  before  their  carbon  and  hydrogen  can  be  as- 
similated. To  overcome  the  powerful  affinities  which  hold  their 
elements  together,  requires  the  expenditure  of  force;  and  this 
force  is  supplied  by  the  Sun.  In  what  manner  the  decomposi- 
tion is  effected  we  do  not  know.  But  we  know  that  when,  under 
fit  conditions,  plants  are  exposed  to  the  Sun’s  rays,  they  give  off 
oxygen  and  accumulate  carbon  and  hydrogen.  In  darkness  this 
process  ceases.  It  ceases  too  when  the  quantities  of  light  and 
heat  received  are  greatly  reduced,  as  in  winter.  Conversely,  it 
is  active  when  the  light  and  heat  are  great,  as  in  summer.  And 
the  like  relation  is  seen  in  the  fact  that  while  plant-life  is  lux- 
uriant in  the  tropics,  it  diminishes  in  temperate  regions,  and 
disappears  as  we  approach  the  poles.  Thus  the  irresistible  in- 
ference is,  that  the  forces  by  which  plants  abstract  the  materials 
of  their  tissues  from  surrounding  inorganic  compounds  — the 
forces  by  which  they  grow  and  carry  on  their  functions  — are 
forces  that  previously  existed  as  solar  radiations. 

That  animal  life  is  immediately  or  mediately  dependent  on 
vegetal  life  is  a familiar  truth ; and  that,  in  the  main,  the 
processes  of  animal  life  are  opposite  to  those  of  vegetal  life 
is  a truth  long  current  among  men  of  science.  Chemically 
considered,  vegetal  life  is  chiefly  a process  of  de-oxidation, 
and  animal  life  chiefly  a process  of  oxidation:  chiefly,  we  must 
say,  because  in  so  far  as  plants  are  expenders  of  force  for 
the  purposes  of  organization,  they  are  oxidizers  (as  is  shown 
by  the  exhalation  of  carbonic  acid  during  the  night) ; and 
animals,  in  some  of  their  minor  processes,  are  probably  de-oxi- 
dizers. But  with  this  qualification,  the  general  truth  is  that 
while  the  plant,  decomposing  carbonic  acid  and  water  and 
liberating  oxygen,  builds  up  the  detained  carbon  and  hydro- 
gen (along  with  a little  nitrogen  and  small  quantities  of 
other  elements  elsewhere  obtained)  into  branches,  leaves,  and 
seeds;  the  animal,  consuming  these  branches,  leaves,  and  seeds, 
and  absorbing  oxygen,  recomposes  carbonic  acid  and  water, 
together  with  certain  nitrogenous  compounds  in  minor  amounts. 
And  while  the  decomposition  effected  by  the  plant,  is  at  the 
expense  of  certain  forces  emanating  from  the  sun,  which  are 
employed  in  overcoming  the  affinities  of  carbon  and  hydrogen 
for  the  oxygen  united  with  them;  the  recomposition  effected 


1S2 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


by  the  animal,  is  at  the  profit  of  these  forces,  which  are  lib- 
erated during  the  combination  of  such  elements.  Thus  the 
movements,  internal  and  external,  of  the  animal,  are  reappear- 
ances in  new  forms  of  a power  absorbed  by  the  plant  under 
the  shape  of  light  and  heat.  Just  as,  in  the  manner  above 
explained,  the  solar  forces  expended  in  raising  vapor  from  the 
sea’s  surface,  are  given  out  again  in  the  fall  of  rain  and 
rivers  to  the  same  level,  and  in  the  accompanying  transfer  of 
solid  matters;  so,  the  solar  forces  that  in  the  plant  raised 
certain  chemical  elements  to  a condition  of  unstable  equilibrium, 
are  given  out  again  in  the  actions  of  the  animal  during  the 
fall  of  these  elements  to  a condition  of  stable  equilibrium. 

Besides  thus  tracing  a qualitative  correlation  between  these 
two  great  orders  of  organic  activity,  as  well  as  between  both 
of  them  and  inorganic  agencies,  we  may  rudely  trace  a quanti- 
tative correlation.  Where  vegetal  life  is  abundant,  we  usually 
find  abundant  animal  life;  and  as  we  advance  from  torrid  to 
temperate  and  frigid  climates,  the  two  decrease  together.  Speak- 
ing generally,  the  animals  of  each  class  reach  a larger  size 
in  regions  where  vegetation  is  abundant,  than  in  those  where 
it  -is  -sparse.  And  further,  there  is  a tolerably  apparent  con- 
nection between  the  quantity  of  energy  which  each  species  of 
animal  expends,  and  the  quantity  of  force  which  the  nutriment 
it  absorbs  gives  out  during  oxidation. 

Certain  phenomena  of  development  in  both  plants  and  ani- 
mals illustrate  still  more  directly  the  ultimate  truth  enunciated. 
Pursuing  the  suggestion  made  by  Mr.  Grove,  in  the  first  edi- 
tion of  his  work  on  the  “ Correlation  of  the  Physical  Forces,” 
that  a connection  probably  exists  between  the  forces  classed 
as  vital  and  those  classed  as  physical,  Dr.  Carpenter  has  pointed 
out  that  such  a connection  is  clearly  exhibited  during  incubation. 
The  transformation  of  the  unorganized  contents  of  an  egg  into 
the  organized  chick,  is  altogether  a question  of  heat:  withhold 
heat  and  the  process  does  not  commence;  supply  heat  and  it 
goes  on  while  the  temperature  is  maintained,  but  ceases  when 
the  egg  is  allowed  to  cool.  The  developmental  changes  can 
be  completed  only  by  keeping  the  temperature  with  tolerable 
constancy  at  a definite  height  for  a definite  time ; that  is  — only 
by  supplying  a definite  quantity  of  heat.  In  the  metamorphoses 
of  insects  we  may  discern  parallel  facts.  Experiments  show  not 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  183 


only  that  the  hatching  of  their  eggs  is  determined  by  tempera- 
ture, but  also  that  the  evolution  of  the  pupa  into  the  imago 
is  similarly  determined;  and  may  be  immensely  accelerated  or 
retarded  according  as  heat  is  artificially  supplied  or  withheld. 
It  will  suffice  just  to  add  that  the  germination  of  plants  pre- 
sents like  relations  of  cause  and  effect  — relations  so  similar  that 
detail  is  superfluous. 

Thus  then  the  various  changes  exhibited  to  us  by  the  organic 
creation,  whether  considered  as  a whole,  or  in  its  two  great 
divisions,  or  in  its  individual  members,  conform,  so  far  as 
we  can  ascertain,  to  the  general  principle.  Where,  as  in  the 
transformation  of  an  egg  into  a chick,  we  can  investigate  the 
phenomena  apart  from  all  complications,  we  find  that  the  force 
manifested  in  the  process  of  organization,  involves  expenditure 
of  a pre-existing  force.  Where  it  is  not,  as  in  the  egg  or  the 
chrysalis,  merely  the  change  of  a fixed  quantity  of  matter  into 
a new  shape,  but  where,  as  in  the  growing  plant  or  animal,  we 
have  an  incorporation  of  matter  existing  outside,  there  is  still 
a pre-existing  external  force  at  the  cost  of  which  this  incorpora- 
tion is  effected.  And  where,  as  in  the  higher  division  of  or- 
ganisms, there  remain,  over  and  above  the  forces  expended  in 
organization,  certain  surplus  forces  expended  in  movement, 
these  too  are  indirectly  derived  from  this  same  pre-existing 
external  force. 

§ 71.  Even  after  all  that  has  been  said  in  the  foregoing 
part  of  this  work,  many  will  be  alarmed  by  the  assertion,  that 
the  forces  which  we  distinguish  as  mental,  come  within  the 
same  generalization.  Yet  there  is  no  alternative  but  to  make 
this  assertion:  the  facts  which  justify,  or  rather  which  neces- 
sitate it,  being  abundant  and  conspicuous.  They  fall  into  the 
following  groups. 

All  impressions  from  moment  to  moment  made  on  our  or- 
gans of  sense,  stand  in  direct  correlation  with  physical  forces 
existing  externally.  The  modes  of  consciousness  called  pres- 
sure, motion,  sound,  light,  heat,  are  effects  produced  in  us  by 
agencies  which,  as  otherwise  expended,  crush  or  fracture  pieces 
of  matter,  generate  vibrations  in  surrounding  objects,  cause 
chemical  combinations,  and  reduce  substances  from  a solid  to 
a liquid  form.  Hence  if  we  regard  the  changes  of  relative 


184 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


position,  of  aggregation,  or  of  chemical  state,  thus  arising, 
as  being  transformed  manifestations  of  the  agencies  from  which 
they  arise;  so  must  we  regard  the  sensations  which  such  agen- 
cies produce  in  us,  as  new  forms  of  the  forces  producing  them. 
Any  hesitation  to  admit  that,  between  the  physical  forces  and  the 
sensations  there  exists  a correlation  like  that  between  the  phys- 
ical forces  themselves,  must  disappear  on  remembering  how 
the  one  correlation,  like  the  other,  is  not  qualitative  only  but 
quantitative.  Masses  of  matter  which,  by  scales  or  dynamom- 
eter, are  shown  to  differ  greatly  in  weight,  differ  as  greatly 
in  the  feelings  of  pressure  they  produce  on  our  bodies.  In 
arresting  moving  objects,  the  strains  we  are  conscious  of  are 
proportionate  to  the  momenta  of  such  objects  as  otherwise  meas- 
ured. Under  like  conditions  the  impressions  of  sounds  given 
to  us  by  vibrating  strings,  bells,  or  columns  of  air,  are  found 
to  vary  in  strength  with  the  amount  of  force  applied.  Fluids 
or  solids  proved  to  be  markedly  contrasted  in  temperature  by 
the  different  degrees  of  expansion  they  produce  in  the  mercurial 
column,  produce  in  us  correspondingly  different  degrees  of  the 
sensation  of  heat.  And  similarly  unlike  intensities  in  our  im- 
pressions of  light,  answer  to  unlike  effects  as  measured  by  pho- 
tometers. 

Besides  the  correlation  and  equivalence  .between  external  phys- 
ical forces,  and  the  mental  forces  generated  by  them  in  us 
under  the  form  of  sensations,  there  is  a correlation  and  equiva- 
lence between  sensations  and  those  physical  forces  which,  in  the 
shape  of  bodily  actions,  result  from  them.  The  feelings  we 
distinguish  as  light,  heat,  sound,  odor,  taste,  pressure,  etc., 
do  not  die  away  without  immediate  results;  but  are  invariably 
followed  by  other  manifestations  of  force.  In  addition  to  the 
excitements  of  secreting  organs,  that  are  in  some  cases  traceable, 
there  arises  a contraction  of  the  involuntary  muscles,  or  of  the 
voluntary  muscles,  or  of  both.  Sensations  increase  the  action 
of  the  heart  — slightly  when  they  are  slight ; markedly  when  they 
are  marked;  and  recent  physiological  inquiries  imply  not  only 
that  contraction  of  the  heart  is  excited  by  every  sensation,  but 
also  that  the  muscular  fibres  throughout  the  whole  vascular 
system,  are  at  the  same  time  more  or  less  contracted.  The 
respiratory  muscles,  too,  are  stimulated  into  greater  activity  by 
sensations.  The  rate  of  breathing  is  visibly  and  audibly  aug- 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  1 185 

merited  both  by  pleasurable  and  painful  impressions  on  the 
nerves,  when  these  reach  any  intensity.  It  has  even  of  late 
been  shown  that  inspiration  becomes  more  frequent  on  transition 
from  darkness  into  sunshine  — a result  probably  due  to  the 
increased  amoimt  of  direct  and  indirect  nervous  stimulation 
involved.  When  the  quantity  of  sensation  is  great,  it  generates 
contractions  of  the  voluntary  muscles,  as  well  as  of  the  involun- 
tary ones.  Unusual  excitement  of  the  nerves  of  touch,  as  by 
tickling,  is  followed  by  almost  uncontrollable  movements  of 
the  limbs.  Violent  pains  cause  violent  struggles.  The  start 
that  succeeds  a loud  sound,  the  wry  face  produced  by  the  taste 
of  anything  extremely  disagreeable,  the  jerk  with  which  the 
hand  or  foot  is  snatched  out  of  water  that  is  very  hot,  are 
instances  of  the  transformation  of  feeling  into  motion;  and 
in  these  cases,  as  in  all  others,  it  is  manifest  that  the  quantity 
of  bodily  action  is  proportionate  to  the  quantity  of  sensation. 
Even  where  from  pride  there  is  a suppression  of  the  screams  and 
groans  expressive  of  great  pain  (also  indirect  results  of  muscular 
contraction),  we  may  still  see  in  the  clinching  of  the  hands, 
the  knitting  of  the  brows,  and  the  setting  of  the  teeth,  that 
the  bodily  actions  developed  are  as  great,  though  less  obtru- 
sive in  the  results.  If  we  take  emotions  instead  of  sensations, 
we  find  the  correlation  and  equivalence  equally  manifest.  Not 
only  are  the  modes  of  consciousness  directly  produced  in 
us  by  physical  forces,  retransformable  into  physical  forces 
under  the  form  of  muscular  motions  and  the  changes  they 
initiate;  but  the  like  is  true  of  those  modes  of  consciousness 
which  are  not  directly  produced  in  ns  by  the  physical  forces. 
Emotions  of  moderate  intensity,  like  sensations  of  moderate 
intensity,  generate  little  beyond  excitement  of  the  heart  and 
vascular  system,  joined  sometimes  with  increased  action  of 
glandular  organs.  But  as  the  emotions  rise  in  strength,  the 
muscles  of  the  face,  body,  and  limbs,  begin  to  move.  Of 
examples  may  be  mentioned  the  frowns,  dilated  nostrils,  and 
stampings  of  anger;  the  contracted  brows,  and  wrung  hands, 
of  grief;  the  smiles  and  leaps  of  joy;  and  the  frantic  struggle 
of  terror  or  despair.  Passing  over  certain  apparent,  but  only 
apparent,  exceptions,  we  see  that  whatever  be  the  kind  of 
emotion,  there  is  a manifest  relation  between  its  amount,  and 
the  amoimt  of  muscular  action  induced:  alike  from  the  erect 


186 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


carriage  and  elastic  step  of  exhilaration,  up  to  the  dancings 
of  immense  delight,  and  from  the  fidgetiness  of  impatience  up 
to  the  almost  convulsive  movements  accompanying  great  mental 
agony.  To  these  several  orders  of  evidence  must  be  joined 
the  further  one,  that  between  our  feelings  and  those  voluntary 
motions  into  which  they  are  transformed,  there  comes  the 
sensation  of  muscular  tension,  standing  in  manifest  correlation 
with  both  — a correlation  that  is  distinctly  quantitative : the 
sense  of  strain  varying,  other  things  equal,  directly  as  the 
quantity  of  momentum  generated. 

“ But  how,”  it  may  be  asked,  “ can  we  interpret  by  the  law 
of  correlation  the  genesis  of  those  thoughts  and  feelings  which, 
instead  of  following  external  stimuli,  arise  spontaneously  ? 
Between  the  indignation  caused  by  an  insult,  and  the  loud 
sounds  or  violent  acts  that  follow,  the  alleged  connection  may 
hold;  but  whence  come  the  crowd  of  ideas  and  the  mass  of 
feelings  that  expend  themselves  in  these  demonstrations  ? They 
are  clearly  not  equivalents  of  the  sensations  produced  by  the 
words  on  the  ears;  for  the  same  words,  otherwise  arranged, 
would  not  have  caused  them.  The  thing  said  bears  to  the 
mental  action  it  excites,  much  the  same  relation  that  the 
pulling  of  a trigger  bears  to  the  subsequent  explosion  — does 
not  produce  the  power,  but  merely  liberates  it.  Whence  then 
arises  this  immense  amount  of  nervous  energy  which  a whisper 
or  a glance  may  call  forth?”  The  reply  is,  that  the  immediate 
correlates  of  these  and  other  such  modes  of  consciousness,  are 
not  to  be  found  in  the  agencies  acting  on  us  externally,  but 
in  certain  internal  agencies.  The  forces  called  vital,  which 
we  have  seen  to  be  correlates  of  the  forces  called  physical,  are 
the  immediate  sources  of  these  thoughts  and  feelings;  and 
are  expended  in  producing  them.  The  proofs  of  this  are 
various.  Here  are  some  of  them.  It  is  a conspicuous  fact 
that  mental  action  is  contingent  on  the  presence  of  a certain 
nervous  apparatus ; and  that,  greatly  obscured  as  it  is  by 
numerous  and  involved  conditions,  a general  relation  may  be 
traced  between  the  size  of  this  apparatus  and  the  quantity  of 
mental  action  as  measured  by  its  results.  Further,  this  appa- 
ratus has  a particular  chemical  constitution  on  which  its 
activity  depends;  and  there  is  one  element  in  it  between  the 
amount  of  which  and  the  amount  of  function  performed,  there 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  1S7 

is  an  ascertained  connection : the  proportion  of  phosphorus 
present  in  the  brain  being  the  smallest  in  infancy,  old  age 
and  idiocy,  and  the  greatest  during  the  prime  of  life.  Note 
next,  that  the  evolution  of  thought  and  emotion  varies,  other 
things  equal,  with  the  supply  of  blood  to  the  brain.  On  the 
one  hand,  a cessation  of  the  cerebral  circulation,  from  arrest 
of  the  heart’s  action,  immediately  entails  unconsciousness.  On 
the  other  hand,  excess  of  cerebral  circulation  (unless  it  is  such 
as  to  cause  undue  pressure)  results  in  an  excitement  rising 
finally  to  delirium.  Not  the  quantity  only,  but  also  the  con- 
dition of  the  blood  passing  through  the  nervous  system,  influ- 
ences the  mental  manifestations.  The  arterial  currents  must 
be  duly  aerated,  to  produce  the  normal  amount  of  cerebration. 
At  the  one  extreme,  we  find  that  if  the  blood  is  not  allowed 
to  exchange  its  carbonic  acid  for  oxygen,  there  results  asphyxia, 
with  its  accompanying  stoppage  of  ideas  and  feelings.  While 
at  the  other  extreme,  we  find  that  by  the  inspiration  of 
nitrous  oxide,  there  is  produced  an  excessive,  and  indeed  irre- 
pressible, nervous  activity.  Besides  the  connection  between 
■the  development  of  the  mental  forces  and  the  presence  of 
sufficient  oxygen  in  the  cerebral  arteries,  there  is  a kindred 
connection  between  the  development  of  the  mental  forces  and 
the  presence  in  the  cerebral  arteries  of  certain  other  elements. 
There  must  be  supplied  special  materials  for  the  nutrition  of 
the  nervous  centres,  as  well  as  for  their  oxidation.  And  how 
what  we  may  call  the  quantity  of  consciousness,  is,  other  things 
equal,  determined  by  the  constituents  of  the  blood,  is  unmis- 
takably seen  in  the  exaltation  that  follows  when  certain  chemical 
compounds,  as  alcohol  and  the  vegeto-alkalies,  are  added  to  it. 
The  gentle  exhilaration  which  tea  and  coffee  create,  is  familiar 
to  all ; and  though  the  gorgeous  imaginations  and  intense 
feelings  of  happiness  produced  by  opium  and  hashish,  have 
been  experienced  by  few  (in  this  country  at  least),  the  testi- 
mony of  those  who  have  experienced  them  is  sufficiently  con- 
clusive. Yet  another  proof  that  the  genesis  of  the  mental 
energies  is  immediately  dependent  on  chemical  change,  is 
afforded  by  the  fact,  that  the  effete  products  separated  from 
the  blood  by  the  kidneys,  vary  in  character  with  the  amount 
of  cerebral  action.  Excessive  activity  of  mind  is  habitually 
accompanied  by  the  excretion  of  an  unusual  quantity  of  the 


1SS 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


alkaline  phosphates.  Conditions  of  abnormal  nervous  excite- 
ment bring  on  analogous  effects.  And  the  “peculiar  odor  of 
the  insane/-’  implying  as  it  does  morbid  products  in  the  perspira- 
tion, shows  a connection  between  insanity  and  a special  com- 
position of  the  circulating  fluids  — a composition  which, 
whether  regarded  as  cause  or  consequence,  equally  implies 
correlation  of  the  mental  and  the  physical  forces.  Lastly  we 
have  to  note  that  this  correlation  too,  is,  so  far  as  we  can  trace 
it,  quantitative.  Provided  the  conditions  to  nervous  action 
are  not  infringed  on,  and  the  concomitants  are  the  same,  there 
is  a tolerably  constant  ratio  between  the  amounts  of  the 
antecedents  and  consequents.  Within  the  implied  limits,  ner- 
vous stimulants  and  anaesthetics  produce  effects  on  the  thoughts 
and  feelings,  proportionate  to  the  quantities  administered.  And 
conversely,  where  the  thoughts  and  feelings  form  the  initial 
term  of  the  relation,  the  degree  of  reaction  on  the  bodily 
energies  is  great,  in  proportion  as  they  are  great:  reaching  in 
extreme  cases  a total  prostration  of  physique. 

Various  classes  of  facts  thus  unite  to  prove  that  the  law 
of  metamorphosis,  which  holds  among  the  physical  forces,  holds 
equally  between  them  and  the  mental  forces.  Those  modes 
of  the  Unknowable  which  we  call  motion,  heat,  light,  chemical 
affinity,  etc.,  are  alike  transformable  into  each  other,  and  into 
those  modes  of  the  Unknowable  which  we  distinguish  as  sensa- 
tion, emotion,  thought:  these,  fn  their  turns,  being  directly 
or  indirectly  retransformable  into  the  original  shapes.  That 
no  idea  or  feeling  arises,  save  as  a result  of  some  physical  force 
expended  in  producing  it,  is  fast  becoming  a commonplace 
of  science;  and  whoever  duly  weighs  the  evidence  will  see, 
that  nothing  but  an  overwhelming  bias  in  favor  of  a precon- 
ceived theory  can  explain  its  non-acceptance.  How  this  meta- 
morphosis takes  place  — how  a force  existing  as  motion,  heat, 
or  light,  can  become  a mode  of  consciousness  — how  it  is 
possible  for  aerial  vibrations  to  generate  the  sensation  we  call 
sound,  or  for  the  forces  liberated  by  chemical  changes  in  the 
brain  to  give  rise  to  emotion  — these  are  mysteries  which  it  is 
impossible  to  fathom.  But  they  are  not  profounder  mysteries 
than  the  transformations  of  the  physical  forces  into  each  other. 
They  are  not  more  completely  beyond  our  comprehension  than 
the  natures  of  Mind  and  Matter.  They  have  simply  the  same 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  189 


insolubility  as  all  other  ultimate  questions.  We  can  learn 
nothing  more  than  that  here  is  one  of  the  uniformities  in 
the  order  of  phenomena. 

§ 72.  If  the  general  law  of  transformation  and  equivalence 
holds  of  the  forces  we  class  as  vital  and  mental,  it  must  hold 
also  of  those  which  we  class  as  social.  Whatever  takes  places  in 
a society  is  due  to  organic  or  inorganic  agencies,  or  to  a 
combination  of  the  two  — results  either  from  the  undirected 
physical  forces  around,  from  these  physical  forces  as  directed 
by  men,  or  from  the  forces  of  the  men  themselves.  No  change 
can  occur  in  its  organization,  its  modes  of  activity,  or  the 
effects  it  produces  on  the  face  of  the  Earth,  but  what  proceeds, 
mediately  or  immediately,  from  these.  Let  us  consider  first 
the  correlation  between  the  phenomena  which  societies  display, 
and  the  vital  phenomena. 

Social  power  and  life  varies,  other  things  equal,  with  the 
population.  Though  different  races,  differing  widely  in  their 
fitness  for  combination,  show  us  that  the  forces  manifested 
in  a society  are  not  necessarily  proportionate  to  the  number 
of  people;  yet  we  see  that,  under  given  conditions,  the  forces 
manifested  are  confined  within  the  limits  which  the  number 
of  people  imposes.  A small  society,  no  matter  how  superior 
the  character  of  its  members,  cannot  exhibit  the  same  quantity 
of  social  action  as  a large  one.  The  production  and  distribution 
of  commodities  must  be  on  a comparatively  small  scale.  A 
multitudinous  press,  a prolific  literature,  or  a massive  political 
agitation,  is  not  possible.  And  there  can  be  but  a small  total 
of  results  in  the  shape  of  art-products  and  scientific  discoveries. 
The  correlation  of  the  social  with  the  physical  forces  through 
the  intermediation  of  the  vital  ones,  is,  however,  most  clearly 
shown  in  the  different  amounts  of  activity  displayed  by  the 
same  society  according  as  its  members  are  supplied  with  differ- 
ent amounts  of  force  from  the  external  world.  In  the  effects 
of  good  and  bad  harvests  we  yearly  see  this  relation  illustrated. 
A greatly  deficient  yield  of  wheat  is  soon  followed  by  a diminu- 
tion of  business.  Factories  are  worked  half-time,  or  closed 
entirely;  railway  traffic  falls;  retailers  find  their  sales  much 
lessened ; house-building  is  almost  suspended ; and  if  the 
.scarcitv  rises  to  famine,  a thinning  of  the  population  still 


190 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


more  diminishes  the  industrial  vivacity.  Conversely,  an  un- 
usually abundant  harvest,  occurring  under  conditions  not  other- 
wise unfavorable,  both  excites  the  old  producing  and  dis- 
tributing agencies  and  sets  up  new  ones.  The  surplus  social 
energy  linds  vent  in  speculative  enterprises.  Capital  seeking 
investment  carries  out  inventions  that  have  been  lying 
unutilized.  Labor  is  expended  in  opening  new  channels  of 
communication.  There  is  increased  encouragement  to  those 
who  furnish  the  luxuries  of  life  and  minister  to  the  aesthetic 
faculties.  There  are  more  marriages,  and  a greater  rate  of 
increase  in  population.  Thus  the  social  organism  grows  larger, 
more  complex,  and  more  active.  When,  as  happens  with  most 
civilized  nations,  the  whole  of  the  materials  for  subsistence 
are  not  drawn  from  the  area  inhabited,  but  are  partly  imported, 
the  people  are  still  supported  by  certain  harvests  elsewhere 
grown  at  the  expense  of  certain  physical  forces.  Our  own 
cotton-spinners  and  weavers  supply  the  most  conspicuous  in- 
stance of  a section  in  one  nation  living,  in  great  part,  on 
imported  commodities,  purchased  by  the  labor  they  expend 
on  other  imported  commodities.  But  though  the  social  activities 
of  Lancashire  are  due  chiefly  to  materials  not  drawn  from  our 
own  soil,  they  are  none  the  less  evolved  from  physical  forces 
elsewhere  stored  up  in  fit  forms  and  then  brought  here. 

If  we  ask  whence  come  these  physical  forces  from  which, 
through  the  intermediation  of  the  vital  forces,  the  social  forces 
arise,  the  reply  is  of  course  as  heretofore  — the  solar  radiations. 
Based  as  the  life  of  a society  is  on  animal  and  vegetal  jmoducts ; 
and  dependent  as  these  animal  and  vegetal  products  are  on 
the  ■ light  and  heat  of  the  sun ; it  follows  that  the  changes 
going  on  in  societies  are  effects  of  forces  having  a common 
origin  with  those  which  produce  all  the  other  orders  of  changes 
that  have  been  analyzed.  Not  only  is  the  force  expended  by 
the  horse  harnessed  to  the  plow,  and  by  the  laborer  guiding  it, 
derived  from  the  same  reservoir  as  is  the  force  of  the  falling 
cataract  and  the  roaring  hurricane ; but  to  this  same  reservoir 
are  eventually  traceable  those  subtler  and  more  complex  mani- 
festations of  force  which  humanity,  as  socially  embodied, 
evolves.  The  assertion  is  a startling  one,  and  by  many  will  be 
thought  ludicrous;  but  it  is  an  unavoidable  deduction  which 
cannot  here  be  passed  over. 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  191 


Of  the  physical  forces  that  are  directly  transformed  into 
social  ones,  the  like  is  to  be  said.  Currents  of  air  and  water, 
which  before  the  use  of  steam  were  the  only  agencies  brought 
in  aid  of  muscular  effort  for  the  performance  of  industrial 
processes,  are,  as  we  have  seen,  generated  by  the  heat  of  the 
sun.  And  the  inanimate  power  that  now,  to  so  vast  an  extent, 
supplements  human  labor,  is  similarly  derived.  The  late. 
George  Stephenson  was  one  of  the  first  to  recognize  the  fact' 
that  the  force  impelling  his  locomotive,  originally  emanated 
from  the  sun.  Step  by  step  we  go  back  — from  the  motion 
of  the  piston  to  the  evaporation  of  the  water;  thence  to  the' 
heat  evolved  during  the  oxidation  of  coal ; thence  to  the 
assimilation  of  carbon  by  the  plants  of  whose  imbedded  remains 
coal  consists;  thence  to  the  carbonic  acid  from  which  their 
carbon  was  obtained;  and  thence  to  the  rays  of  light  that 
deoxidized  this  carbonic  acid.  Solar  forces  millions  of  years 
ago  expended  on  the  Earth’s  vegetation,  and  since  locked  up 
beneath  its  surface,  now  smelt  the  metals  required  for  our 
machines,  turn  the  lathes  by  which  the  machines  are  shaped, 
work  them  when  put  together,  and  distribute  the  fabrics  they 
produce.  And  in  so  far  as  economy  of  labor  makes  possible 
the  support  of  a larger  population;  gives  a surplus  of  human 
power  that  would  else  be  absorbed  in  manual  occupations;  and 
facilitates  the  development  of  higher  kinds  of  activity;  it  is 
clear  that  these  social  forces  which  are  directly  correlated  with 
physical  forces  anciently  derived  from  the  sun,  are  only  less 
important  than  those  whose  correlates  are  the  vital  forces 
recently  derived  from  it. 

§ 73.  Regarded  as  an  induction,  the  doctrine  set  forth  in 
this  chapter  will  most  likely  be  met  by  a demurrer.  Many 
who  admit  that  among  physical  phenomena  at  least,  transfor- 
mation of  forces  is  now  established,  will  probably  say  that 
inquiry  has  not  yet  gone  far  enough  to  enable  us  to  predicate 
equivalence.  And  in  respect  of  the  forces  classed  as  vital, 
mental,  and  social,  the  evidence  assigned,  however  little  to 
be  explained  away,  they  will  consider  by  no  means  conclusive 
even  of  transformation,  much  less  of  equivalence. 

To  those  who  think  thus,  it  must  now  however  be  pointed 
out,  that  the  universal  truth  above  illustrated  under  its  various 


102 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


aspects,  is  a necessary  corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force. 
Setting  out  with  the  proposition  that  force  can  neither  come 
into  existence,  nor  cease  to  exist,  the  several  foregoing  general 
conclusions  inevitably  follow.  Each  manifestation  of  force  can 
be  interpreted  only  as  the  effect  of  some  antecedent  force : no 
matter  whether  it  be  an  inorganic  action,  an  animal  movement, 
a thought,  or  a feeling.  Either  this  must  be  conceded,  or  else 
it  must  be  asserted  that  our  successive  states  of  consciousness 
are  self-created.  Either  mental  energies,  as  well  as  bodily  ones, 
are  quantitatively  correlated  to  certain  energies  expended  in 
their  production,  and  to  certain  other  energies  which  they 
initiate;  or  else  nothing  must  become  something  and  some- 
thing must  become  nothing.  The  alternatives  are,  to  deny  the 
persistence  of  force,  or  to  admit  that  every  physical  and 
psychical  change  is  generated  by  certain  antecedent  forces,  and 
that  from  given  amounts  of  such  forces  neither  more  nor  less 
of  such  physical  and  psychical  changes  can  result.  And  since 
the  persistence  of  force,  being  a datum  of  consciousness,  cannot 
be  denied,  its  unavoidable  corollary  must  be  accepted.  This 
corollary  cannot  indeed  be  made  more  certain  by  accumulating 
illustrations.  The  truth  as  arrived  at  deductively,  cannot  be 
inductively  confirmed.  For  every  one  of  such  facts  as  those 
above  detailed,  is  established  only  through  the  indirect  assump- 
tion of  that  persistence  of  force,  from  which  it  really  follows 
as  a direct  consequence.  The  most  exact  proof  of  correlation 
and  equivalence  which  it  is  possible  to  reach  by  experimental 
inquiry,  is  that  based  on  measurement  of  the  forces  expended 
and  the  forces  produced.  But,  as  was  shown  in  the  last  chapter, 
any  such  process  of  measurement  implies  the  use  of  some 
unit  of  force  which  is  assumed  to  remain  constant;  and  for 
this  assumption  there  can  be  no  warrant  but  that  it  is  a corollary 
from  the  persistence  of  force.  How  then  can  any  reasoning 
based  on  this  corollary,  prove  the  equally  direct  corollary  that 
When  a given  quantity  of  force  ceases  to  exist  under  one  form, 
an  equal  quantity  must  come  into  existence  under  some  other 
form  or  forms?  Clearly  the  a priori  truth  expressed  in  this 
last  corollary,  cannot  be  more  firmly  established  by  any  a pos- 
teriori proofs  which  the  first  corollary  helps  us  to. 

“ What  then,”  it  may  be  asked,  “ is  the  use  of  these  investi- 
gations by  which  transformation  and  equivalence  of  forces  is 


TRANSFORMATION  AND  EQUIVALENCE  OF  FORCES  193 

sought  to  be  established  as  an  inductive  truth?  Surely  it  will 
not  be  alleged  that  they  are  useless.  Yet  if  the  correlation 
cannot  be  made  more  certain  by  them  than  it  is  already,  does 
not  their  uselessness  necessarily  follow?”  No.  They  are  of 
value  as  disclosing  the  many  particular  implications  which  the 
general  truth  does  not  specify.  They  are  of  value  as  teaching 
us  how  much  of  one  mode  of  force  is  the  equivalent  of  so 
much  of  another  mode.  They  are  of  value  as  determining 
under  what  conditions  each  metamorphosis  occurs.  And  they 
are  of  value  as  leading  us  to  inquire  in  what  shape  the  remnant 
of  force  has  escaped,  when  the  apparent  results  are  not  equiva- 
lent to  the  cause. 


194 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  DIRECTION  OE  MOTION. 

§ 74.  The  Absolute  Cause  of  changes,  no  matter  what  may 
be  their  special  natures,  is  not  less  incomprehensible  in  respect 
of  the  unity  or  duality  of  its  action,  than  in  all  other  respects. 
We  cannot  decide  between  the  alternative  suppositions,  that 
phenomena  are  due  to  the  variously-conditioned  workings  of  a 
single  force,  and  that  they  are  due  to  the  conflict  of  two  forces. 
Whether,  as  some  contend,  everything  is  explicable  on  the 
hypothesis  of  universal  pressure,  whence  what  we  call  tension 
results  differentially  from  inequalities  of  pressure  in  opposite 
directions;  or  whether,  as  might  be  with  equal  propriety  con- 
tended, tilings  are  to  be  explained  on  the  hypothesis  of  universal 
tension,  from  which  pressure  is  a differential  result;  or  whether, 
as  most  physicists  hold,  pressure  and  tension  everywhere  co- 
exist; are  questions  which  it  is  impossible  to  settle.  Each  of 
these  three  suppositions  makes  the  facts  comprehensible,  only 
by  postulating  an  inconceivability.  To  assume  a universal  pres- 
sure, confessedly  requires  us  to  assume  an  infinite  plenum  — 
an  unlimited  space  full  of  something  which  - is  everywhere 
pressed  by  something  beyond;  and  this  assumption  cannot  be 
mentally  realized.  That  universal  tension  is  the  immediate 
agency  to  which  phenomena  are  due,  is  an  idea  open  to  a 
parallel  and  equally  fatal  objection.  And  however  verbally 
intelligible  may  be  the  proposition  that  pressure  and  tension 
everywhere  co-exist,  yet  we  cannot  truly  represent  to  ourselves 
one  ultimate  unit  of  matter  as  drawing  another  while  resist- 
ing it. 

Nevertheless,  this  last  belief  is  one  which  we  are  compelled 
to  entertain.  Matter  cannot  be  conceived  except  as  manifesting 
forces  of  attraction  and  repulsion.  Body  is  distinguished  in 
our  consciousness  from  Space,  by  its  opposition  to  our  muscular 
energies;  and  this  opposition  we  feel  under  the  twofold  form 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


195 


of  a cohesion  that  hinders  our  efforts  to  rend,  and  a resistance 
that  hinders  our  efforts  to  compress.  Without  resistance  there 
can  be  merely  empty  extension.  Without  cohesion  there  can 
be  no  resistance.  Probably  this  conception  of  antagonistic 
forces,  is  originally  derived  from  the  antagonism  of  our  flexor 
and  extensor  muscles.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  we  are  obliged 
to  think  of  all  objects  as  made  up  of  parts  that  attract  and 
repel  each  other;  since  this  is  the  form  of  our  experience  of 
all  objects. 

By  a higher  abstraction  results  the  conception  of  attractive 
and  repulsive  forces  pervading  space.  We  cannot  dissociate 
force  from  occupied  extension,  or  occupied  extension  from 
force;  because  we  have  never  an  immediate  consciousness  of 
either  in  the  absence  of  the  other.  Nevertheless,  we  have 
abundant  proof  that  force  is  exercised  through  what  appears 
to  our  senses  a vacuity.  Mentally  to  represent  this  exercise, 
we  are  hence  obliged  to  fill  the  apparent  vacuity  with  a species 
of  matter  — an  ethereal  medium.  The  constitution  we  assign 
to  this  ethereal  medium,  however,  like  the  constitution  we  assign 
to  solid  substance,  is  necessarily  an  abstract  of  the  impressions 
received  from  tangible  bodies.  The  opposition  to  pressure  which 
a tangible  body  offers  to  us,  is  not  shown  in  one  direction  only, 
but  in  all  directions;  and  so  likewise  is  its  tenacity.  Suppose 
countless  lines  radiating  from  its  centre  on  every  side,  and  it 
resists  along  each  of  these  .lines  and  coheres  along  each  of 
these  lines.  Hence  the  constitution  of  those  ultimate  units 
through  the  instrumentality  of  which  phenomena  are  inter- 
preted. Be  they  atoms  of  ponderable  matter  or  molecules  of 
ether,  the  properties  we  conceive  them  to  possess  are  nothing 
else  than  these  perceptible  properties  idealized.  Centres  of 
force  attracting  and  repelling  each  other  in  all  directions,  are 
simply  insensible  portions  of  matter  having  the  endowments 
common  to  sensible  portions  of  matter  — endowments  of  which 
we  cannot  by  any  mental  effort  divest  them.  In  brief,  they 
are  the  invariable  elements  of  the  conception  of  matter, 
abstracted  from  its  variable  elements  — size,  form,  quality,  etc. 
And  so  to  interpret  manifestations  of  force  which  cannot  be 
tactually  experienced,  we  use  the  terms  of  thought  supplied  by 
our  tactual  experiences ; and  this  for  the  sufficient  reason  that 
we  must  use  these  or  none. 


196 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


After  all  that  has  been  before  shown,  and  after  the  hint 
given  above,  it  needs  scarcely  be  said  that  these  universally 
co-existent  forces  of  attraction  and  repulsion,  must  not  be 
taken  as  realities,  but  as  our  symbols  of  the  reality.  They 
are  the  forms  under  which  the  workings  of  the  Unknowable 
are  cognizable  by  us  — modes  of  the  Unconditioned  as  pre- 
sented under  the  conditions  of  our  consciousness.  But  while 
knowing  that  the  ideas  thus  generated  in  us  are  not  absolutely 
true,  we  may  unreservedly  surrender  ourselves  to  them  as  rela- 
tively true;  and  may  proceed  to  evolve  a series  of  deductions 
having  a like  relative  truth. 

§ 75.  From  universally  co-existent  forces  of  attraction  and 
repulsion,  there  result  certain  laws  of  direction  of  all  movement. 
Where  attractive  forces  alone  are  concerned,  or  rather  are 
alone  appreciable,  movement  takes  place  in  the  direction  of 
their  resultant;  which  may,  in  a sense,  be  called  the  line  of 
greatest  traction.  Where  repulsive  forces  alone  are  concerned, 
or  rather  are  alone  appreciable,  movement  takes  place  along 
their  resultant;  which  is  usually  known  as  the  line  of  least 
resistance.  And  where  both  attractive  and  repulsive  forces  are 
concerned,  or  are  appreciable,  movement  takes  place  along  the 
resultant  of  all  the  tractions  and  resistances.  Strictly  speak- 
ing, this  last  is  the  sole  law;  since,  by  the  hypothesis,  both 
forces  are  everywhere  in  action.  But  very  frequently  the  one 
kind  of  force  is  so  immensely  in  excess  that  the  effect  of  the 
other  kind  may  be  left  out  of  consideration.  Practically  we 
may  say  that  a body  falling  to  the  Earth,  follows  the  line  of 
greatest  traction;  since,  though  the  resistance  of  the  air  must, 
if  the  body  be  irregular,  cause  some  divergence  from  this  line 
(quite  perceptible  with  feathers  and  leaves),  yet  ordinarily  the 
divergence  is  so  slight  that  we  may  omit  it.  In  the  same 
manner,  though  the  course  taken  by  the  steam  from  an  explod- 
ing boiler  differs  somewhat  from  that  which  it  would  take 
were  gravitation  out  of  the  question ; yet,  as  gravitation  affects 
its  course  infinitesimally,  we  are  justified  in  asserting  that 
the  escaping  steam  follows  the  line  of  least  resistance.  Motion 
then,  we  may  say,  always  follows  the  line  of  greatest  traction, 
or  the  line  of  least  resistance,  or  the  resultant  of  the  two : 
bearing  in  mind  that  though  the  last  is  alone  strictly  true,  the 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


197 


others  are  in  many  cases  sufficiently  near  the  truth  for  practical 
purposes." 

Movement  set  up  in  any  direction  is  itself  a cause  of  further 
movement  in  that  direction,  since  it  is  the  embodiment  of  a 
surplus  force  in  that  direction.  This  holds  equally  with  the 
transit  of  matter  through  space,  the  transit  of  matter  through 
matter,  and  the  transit  through  matter  of  any  kind  of  vibration. 
In  the  case  of  matter  moving  through  space,  this  principle  is 
expressed  in  the  law  of  inertia  — a law  on  which  the  calcula- 
tions of  physical  astronomy  are  wholly  based.  In  the  case  of 
matter  moving  through  matter,  we  trace  the  same  truth  under 
the  familiar  experience  that  any  breach  made  by  one  solid 
through  another,  or  any  channel  formed  by  a fluid  through 
a solid,  becomes  a route  along  which,  other  things  equal,  sub- 
sequent movements  of  like  nature  take  place.  And  in  the 
case  of  motion  passing  through  matter  under  the  form  of  an 
impulse  communicated  from  part  to  part,  the  facts  of  mag- 
netization go  to  show  that  the  establishment  of  undulations 
along  certain  lines,  determines  their  continuance  along  those 
lines. 

It  further  follows  from  the  conditions,  that  the  direction 
of  movement  can  rarely  if  ever  be  perfectly  straight.  For 
matter  in  motion  to  pursue  continuously  the  exact  line  in  which 
it  sets  out,  the  forces  of  attraction  and  repulsion  must  be 
symmetrically  disposed  around  its  path;  and  the  chances 
against  this  are  infinitely  great.  The  impossibility  of  making 
an  absolutely  true  edge  to  a bar  of  metal  — the  fact  that  all 
which  can  be  done  by  the  best  mechanical  appliances,  is  to 
reduce  the  irregularities  of  such  an  edge  to  amounts  that 
cannot  be  perceived  without  magnifiers  — sufficiently  exem- 
plifies how,  in  consequence  of  the  unsymmetrical  distribution 
of  forces  around  the  line  of  movement,  the  movement  is  ren- 
dered more  or  less  indirect.  It  may  be  well  to  add  that  in 
proportion  as  the  forces  at  work  are  numerous  and  varied,  the 
curve  a moving  body  describes  is  necessarily  complex:  witness 
the  contrast  between  the  flight  of  an  arrow  and  the  gyrations 
of  a stick  tossed  about  by  breakers. 

As  a step  toward  unification  of  knowledge  we  have  now  to 
trace  these  general  laws  throughout  the  various  orders  of 
changes  which  the  Cosmos  exhibits.  We  have  to  note  how 


198 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


every  motion  takes  place  along  the  line  of  greatest  traction, 
of  least  resistance,  or  of  their  resultant;  how  the  setting  up  of 
motion  along  a certain  line,  becomes  a cause  of  its  continuance 
along  that  line;  how,  nevertheless,  change  of  relations  to  ex- 
ternal forces,  always  renders  this  line  indirect;  and  how  the 
degree  of  its  indirectness  increases  with  every  addition  to  the 
number  of  influences  at  work. 

§ 76.  If  we  assume  the  first  stage  in  nebular  condensation 
to  be  the  precipitation  into  floceuli  of  denser  matter  previously 
diffused  through  a rare  medium  (a  supposition  both  physically 
justified,  and  in  harmony  with  certain  astronomical  observa- 
tions), we  shall  find  that  nebular  motion  is  interpretable  in 
pursuance  of  the  above  general  laws.  Each  portion  of  such 
vapor-like  matter  must  begin  to  move  toward  the  common 
centre  of  gravity.  Tire  tractive  forces  which  would  of  them- 
selves carry  it  in  a straight  line  to  the  centre  of  gravity,  are 
opposed  by  the  resistant  forces  of  the  medium  through  which 
it  is  drawn.  The  direction  of  movement  must  be  the  resultant 
of  these  — a resultant  which,  in  consequence  of  the  unsym- 
metrical  form  of  the  flocculus,  must  be  a curve  directed,  not 
to  the  centre  of  gravity,  but  toward  one  side  of  it.  And  it 
may  be  readily  shown  that  in  an  aggregation  of  such  floceuli, 
severally  thus  moving,  there  must,  by  composition  of  forces, 
eventually  result  a rotation  of  the  whole  nebula  in  one  direc- 
tion. 

Merely  noting  this  hypothetical  illustration  for  the  purpose 
of  showing  how  the  law  applies  to  the  case  of  nebular  evolution, 
supposing  it  to  have  taken  place,  let  us  pass  to  the  phenomena 
of  the  Solar  System  as  now  exhibited.  Here  the  general  prin- 
ciples above  set  forth  are  every  instant  exemplified.  Each 
planet  and  satellite  has  a momentum  which  would,  if  acting 
alone,  carry  it  forward  in  the  direction  it  is  at  any  instant 
pursuing.  This  momentum  hence  acts  as  a resistance  to  motion 
in  any  other  direction.  Each  planet  and  satellite,  however,  is 
drawn  by  a force  which,  if  unopposed,  would  take  it  in  a 
straight  line  toward  its  primary.  And  the  resultant  of  these 
two  forces  is  that  curve  which  it  describes  — a curve  manifestly 
consequent  on  the  unsymmetrical  distribution  of  the  forces 
around  its  path.  This  path,  when  more  closely  examined,  sup- 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


199 


plies  us  with  further  illustrations.  For  it  is  not  an  exact 
circle  or  ellipse ; which  it  would  be  were  the  tangential  and 
centripetal  forces  the  only  ones  concerned.  Adjacent  members 
of  the  Solar  System,  ever  varying  in  their  relative  positions, 
cause  what  we  call  perturbations ; that  is,  slight  divergences  in 
various  directions  from  that  circle  or  ellipse  which  the  two 
chief  forces  would  produce.  These  perturbations  severally  show 
us  in  minor  degrees,  how  the  line  of  movement  is  the  resultant 
of  all  the  forces  engaged;  and  how  this  line  becomes  more 
complicated  in  proportion  as  the  forces  are  multiplied.  If 
instead  of  the  motions  of  the  planets  and  satellites  as  wholes, 
we  consider  the  motions  of  their  parts,  we  meet  with  com- 
paratively complex  illustrations.  Every  portion  of  the  Earth’s 
substance  in  its  daily  rotation,  describes  a curve  which  is  in 
the  main  a resultant  of  that  resistance  which  checks  its  nearer 
approach  to  the  centre  of  gravity,  that  momentum  which  would 
carry  it  of!  at  a tangent,  and  those  forces  of  gravitation  and 
cohesion  which  keep  it  from  being  so  carried  off.  If  this  axial 
motion  be  compounded  with  the  orbital  motion,  the  course  of 
each  part  is  seen  to  be  a much  more  involved  one.  And  we 
find  it  to  have  a still  greater  complication  on  taking  into 
account  that  lunar  attraction  which  mainly  produces  the  tides 
and  the  precession  of  the  equinoxes. 

§ 77.  We  come  next  to  terrestrial  changes : present  ones 
as  observed,  and  past  ones  as  inferred  by  geologists.  Let  us 
set  out  with  the  hourly-occurring  alterations  in  the  Earth’s 
atmosphere;  descend  to  the  slower  alterations  in  progress  on 
its  surface ; and  then  to  the  still  slower  ones  going  on  beneath. 

Masses  of  air,  absorbing  heat  from  surfaces  warmed  by  the 
sun,  expand,  and  so  lessen  the  weight  of  the  atmospheric 
columns  of  which  they  are  parts.  Hence  they  offer  to  ad- 
jacent atmospheric  columns,  diminished  lateral  resistance;  and 
these,  moving  in  the  directions  of  the  diminished  resistance, 
displace  the  expanded  air;  while  this,  pursuing  an  upward 
course,  displays  a motion  along  that  line  in  which  there  is  least 
pressure.  When  again,  by  the  ascent  of  such  heated  masses 
from  extended  areas  like  the  torrid  zone,  there  is  produced 
at  the  upper  surface  of  the  atmosphere,  a protuberance  beyond 
the  limits  of  equilibrium  — when  the  air  forming  this  pro- 


200 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


tuberance  begins  to  overflow  laterally  toward  the  poles;  it  does 
so  because,  while  the  tractive  force  of  the  Earth  is  nearly  the 
same,  the  lateral  resistance  is  greatly  diminished.  And  through- 
out the  course  of  each  current  thus  generated,  as  well  as 
throughout  the  course  of  each  counter-current  flowing  into 
the  vacuum  that  is  left,  the  direction  is  always  the  resultant 
of  the  Earth’s  tractive  force  and  the  resistance  offered  by  the 
surrounding  masses  of  air:  modified  only  by  conflict  with  other 
currents  similarly  determined,  and  by  collision  with  prom- 
inences on  the  Earth’s  crust.  The  movements  of  water,  in 
both  its  gaseous  and  liquid  states,  furnish  further  examples. 
In  conformity  with  the  mechanical  theory  of  heat,  it  may  be 
shown  that  evaporation  is  the  escape  of  particles  of  water  in 
the  direction  of  least  resistance;  and  that  as  the  resistance 
(which  is  due  to  the  pressure  of  the  water  diffused  in  a gaseous 
state)  diminishes,  the  evaporation  increases.  Conversely,  that 
rushing  together  of  particles  called  condensation,  which  takes 
place  when  any  portion  of  atmospheric  vapor  has  its  temperature 
much  lowered,  may  be  interpreted  as  a diminution  of  the 
mutual  pressure  among  the  condensing  particles,  while  the 
pressure  of  surrounding  particles  remains  the  same;  and  so 
is  a motion  taking  place  in  the  direction  of  lessened  resistance. 
In  the  course  followed  by  the  resulting  rain-drops,  we  have 
one  of  the  simplest  instances  of  the  joint  effect  of  the  two 
antagonist  forces.  The  Earth’s  attraction,  and  the  resistance  of 
atmospheric  currents  ever  varying  in  direction  and  intensity, 
give  as  their  resultants,  lines  which  incline  to  the  horizon  in 
countless  different  degrees  and  undergo  perpetual  variations. 
More  clearly  still  is  the  law  exemplified  by  these  same  rain- 
drops when  they  reach  the  ground.  In  the  course  they  take 
while  trickling  over  its  surface,  in  every  rill,  in  every  larger 
stream,  and  in  every  river,  we  see  them  descending  as  straight 
as  the  antagonism  of  surrounding  objects  permits.  From  mo- 
ment to  moment,  the  motion  of  water  toward  the  Earth’s 
centre  is  opposed  by  the  solid  matter  around  and  under  it; 
and  from  moment  to  moment  its  route  is  the  resultant  of 
the  lines  of  greatest  traction  and  least  resistance.  So  far  from 
a cascade  furnishing,  as  it  seems  to  do,  an  exception,  it  fur- 
nishes but  another  illustration.  For  though  all  solid  obstacles 
to  a vertical  fall  of  the  water  are  removed,  yet  the  water’s 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


201 


horizontal  momentum  is  an  obstacle ; and  the  parabola  in 
which  the  stream  leaps  from  the  projecting  ledge,  is  generated 
by  the  combined  gravitation  and  momentum.  It  may  be  well 
just  to  draw  attention  to  the  degree  of  complexity  here  pro- 
duced in  the  line  of  movement  by  the  variety  of  forces  at 
work. 

In  atmospheric  currents,  and  still  more  clearly  in  water- 
courses (to  which  might  be  added  ocean-streams),  the  route 
followed  is  too  complex  to  be  defined,  save  as  a curve  of 
three  dimensions  with  an  ever  varying  equation. 

The  Earth’s  solid  crust  undergoes  changes  that  supply  an- 
other group  of  illustrations.  The  denudation  of  lands  and 
the  depositing  of  the  removed  sediment  in  new  strata  at  the 
bottoms  of  seas  and  lakes,  is  a process  throughout  which 
motion  is  obviously  determined  in  the  same  way  as  is  that  of 
the  water  effecting  the  transport.  Again,  though  we  have  no 
direct  inductive  proof  that  the  forces  classed  as  igneous,  expend 
themselves  along  lines  of  least  resistance;  yet  what  little  we 
know  of  them  is  in  harmony  with  the  belief  that  they  do  so. 
Earthquakes  continually  revisit  the  same  localities,  and  special 
tracts  undergo  for  long  periods  together  successive  elevations 
or  subsidences  — facts  which  imply  that  already-fractured  por- 
tions of  the  Earth’s  crust  are  those  most  prone  to  yield  under 
the  pressure  caused  by  further  contractions.  The  distribution 
of  volcanoes  along  certain  lines,  as  well  as  the  frequent  recur- 
rence of  eruptions  from  the  same  vents,  are  facts  of  like 
meaning. 


§ 78.  That  organic  growth  takes  place  in  the  direction  of 
least  resistance,  is  a proposition  that  has  been  set  forth  and 
illustrated  by  Mr.  James  Hinton,  in  the  “ Medico-Chirurgical 
Review.”  After  detailing  a few  of  the  early  observations  which 
led  him  to  this  generalization,  he  formulates  it  thus : — 

“ Organic  form  is  the  result  of  motion.” 

“ Motion  takes  the  direction  of  least  resistance.” 

“ Therefore  organic  form  is  the  result  of  motion  in  the 
direction  of  least  resistance.” 

After  an  elucidation  and  defence  of  this  position,  Mr.  Hinton 
proceeds  to  interpret,  in  conformity  with  it,  sundry  phenomena 
of  development.  Speaking  of  plants  he  says: — - 


202 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


The  formation  of  the  root  furnishes  a beautiful  illustration  of 
the  law  of  least  resistance,  for  it  grows  by  insinuating  itself,  cell  by 
cell,  through  the  interstices  of  the  soil;  it  is  by  such  minute  addi- 
tions that  it  increases,  winding  and  twisting  whithersoever  the  ob- 
stacles it  meets  in  its  path  determine,  and  growing  there  most,  where 
the  nutritive  materials  are  added  to  it  most  abundantly.  As  we  look 
on  the  roots  of  a mighty  tree,  it  appears  to  us  as  if  they  had  forced 
themselves  with  giant  violence  into  the  solid  earth.  But  it  is  not 
so;  they  were  led  on  gently,  cell  added  to  cell,  softly  as  the  dews 
descended,  and  the  loosened  earth  made  way.  Once  formed,  indeed, 
they  expand  with  an  enormous  power,  but  the  spongy  condition  of  the 
growing  radicles  utterly  forbids  the  supposition  that  they  are  forced 
into  the  earth.  Is  it  not  probable,  indeed,  that  the  enlargement  of 
the  roots  already  formed  may  crack  the  surrounding  soil,  and  help 
to  make  the  interstices  into  which  the  new  rootlets  grow  ? . . . 

Throughout  almost  the  whole  of  organic  nature  the  spiral  form  is 
more  or  less  distinctly  marked.  Now,  motion  under  resistance  takes 
a spiral  direction,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  motion  of  a body  rising  or 
falling  through  water.  A bubble  rising  rapidly  in  water  describes 
a spiral  closely  resembling  a corkscrew,  and  a body  of  moderate  specific 
gravity  dropped  into  water  may  be  seen  to  fall  in  a curved  direction,  the 
spiral  tendency  of  which  may  be  distinctly  observed.  ...  In  this 
prevailing  spiral  form  of  organic  bodies,  therefore,  it  appears  to  me, 
that  there  is  presented  a strong  prima  facie  case  for  the  view  I have 
maintained.  . . . The  spiral  form  of  the  branches  of  many  trees  is 

very  apparent,  and  the  universally  spiral  arrangement  of  the  leaves 
around  the  stem  of  plants  needs  only  to  be  referred  to.  . . . The 

heart  commences  as  a spiral  turn,  and  in  its  perfect  form  a manifest 
spiral  may  be  traced  through  the  left  ventricle,  right  ventricle,  right 
auricle,  left  auricle  and  appendix.  And  what  is  the  spiral  turn  in 
which  the  heart  commences  but  a necessary  result  of  the  lengthening, 
under  a limit,  of  the  cellular  mass  of  which  it  then  consists? 

Every  one  must  have  noticed  the  peculiar  curling  up  of  the  young 
leaves  of  the  common  fern.  The  appearance  is  as  if  the  leaf  were  rolled 
up,  but  in  truth  this  form  is  merely  a phenomenon  of  growth.  The 

curvature  results  from  the  increase  of  the  leaf,  it  is  only  another 

form  of  the  wrinkling  up,  or  turning  at  right  angles  by  extension  under 
limit. 

The  rolling  up  or  imbrication  of  the  petals  in  many  flower-buds 
is  a similar  thing;  at  an  early  period  the  small  petals  may  be  seen 
lying  side  by  side,  afterward  growing  within  the  capsule,  they  become 
folded  round  one  another.  . . . 

If  a flower-bud  be  opened  at  a sufficiently  early  period,  the  stamens 

will  be  found  as  if  molded  in  the  cavity  between  the  pistil  and  the 

corolla,  which  cavity  the  anthers  exactly  fill;  the  stalks  lengthen  at 
an  after  period.  I have  noticed  also  in  a few  instances,  that  in  those 
flowers  in  which  the  petals  are  imbricated,  or  twisted  together,  the 
pistil  is  tapering  as  growing  up  between  the  petals;  in  some  flowers 
which  have  the  petals  so  arranged  in  the  bud  as  to  form  a dome  (as 
the  hawthorn;  e.  g.),  the  pistil  is  flattened  at  the  apex,  and  in  the 
bud  occupies  a space  precisely  limited  by  the  stamens  below,  and  the 
inclosing  petals  above  and  at  the  sides.  I have  not,  however,  satisfied 
myself  that  this  holds  good  in  all  cases. 

Without  indorsing  all  Mr.  Hinton’s  illustrations,  to  some 
of  which  exception  might  be  taken,  his  conclusion  may  be 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


203 


accepted  as  a large  instalment  of  the  truth.  It  is,  however, 
to  be  remarked,  that  in  the  case  of  organic  growth,  as  in  all 
other  cases,  the  line  of  movement  is  in  strictness  the  resultant 
of  tractive  and  resistant  forces;  and  that  the  tractive  forces 
here  form  so  considerable  an  element  that  the  formula  is 
scarcely  complete  without  them.  The  shapes  of  plants  are 
manifestly  modified  by  gravitation : the  direction  of  each  branch 
is  not  what  it  would  have  been  were  the  tractive  force  of  the 
Earth  absent ; and  every  flower  and  leaf  is  somewhat  altered 
in  the  course  of  development  by  the  weight  of  its  parts. 
Though  in  animals,  such  effects  are  less  conspicuous,  yet  the 
instances  in  which  flexible  organs  have  their  directions  in 
great  measure  determined  by  gravity,  justify  the  assertion 
that  throughout  the  whole  organism  the  forms  of  parts  must 
be  affected  by  this  force. 

The  organic  movements  which  constitute  growth,  are  not, 
however,  the  only  organic  movements  to  be  interpreted.  There 
are  also  those  which  constitute  function.  And  throughout  these 
the  same  general  principles  are  discernible.  That  the  vessels 
along  which  blood,  lymph,  bile,  and  all  the  secretions,  find 
their  ways,  are  channels  of  least  resistance,  is  a fact  almost  too 
conspicuous  to  be  named  as  an  illustration.  Less  conspicuous, 
however,  is  the  truth,  that  the  currents  setting  along  these 
vessels  are  affected  by  the  tractive  force  of  the  Earth:  witness 
varicose  veins;  witness  the  relief  to  an  inflamed  part  obtained 
by  raising  it;  witness  the  congestion  of  head  and  face  produced 
by  stooping.  And  in  the  fact  that  dropsy  in  the  legs  gets 
greater  by  day  and  decreases  at  night,  while,  conversely,  the 
cedematous  fulness  under  the  eyes  common  in  debility,  grows 
worse  during  the  hours  of  reclining  and  decreases  after  getting 
up,  shows  us  how  the  transudation  of  fluid  through  the  walls 
of  the  capillaries,  varies  according  as  change  of  position  changes 
the  effect  of  gravity  in  different  parts  of  the  body. 

It  may  be  well  in  passing  just  to  note  the  bearing  of  the 
principle  on  the  development  of  species.  From  a dynamic 
point  of  view,  “ natural  selection  ” implies  structural  changes 
along  lines  of  least  resistance.  The  multiplication  of  any  kind 
of  plant  or  animal  in  localities  that  are  favorable  to  it,  is  a 
growth  where  the  antagonistic  forces  are  less  than  elsewhere. 
And  the  preservation  of  varieties  that  succeed  better  than  their 


204 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


allies  in  coping  with  surrounding  conditions,  is  the  continu- 
ance of  vital  movement  in  those  directions  where  the  obstacles 
to  it  are  most  eluded. 

§ 79.  Throughout  the  phenomena  of  mind  the  law  enun- 
ciated is  not  so  readily  established.  In  a large  part  of  them, 
as  those  of  thought  and  emotion,  there  is  no  perceptible  move- 
ment. Even  in  sensation  and  volition,  which  show  us  in  one 
part  of  the  body  an  effect  produced  by  a force  applied  to 
another  part,  the  intermediate  movement  is  inferential  rather 
than  visible.  Such  indeed  are  the  difficulties  that  it  is  not 
possible  here  to  do  more  than  briefly  indicate  the  proofs  which 
might  be  given  did  space  permit. 

Supposing  the  various  forces  throughout  an  organism  to 
be  previously  in  equilibrium,  then  any  part  which  becomes  the 
seat  of  a further  force,  added  or  liberated,  must  be  one  from 
which  the  force,  being  resisted  by  smaller  forces  around,  will 
initiate  motion  toward  some  other  part  of  the  organism.  If 
elsewhere  in  the  organism  there  is  a point  at  which  force  is 
being  expended,  and  which  so  is  becoming  minus  a force  which 
it  before  had,  instead  of  plus  a force  which  it  before  had  not, 
and  thus  is  made  a point  at  which  the  reaction  against  sur- 
rounding forces  is  diminished;  then,  manifestly,  a motion  tak- 
ing place  between  the  first  and  the  last  of  these  points  is  a 
motion  along  the  line  of  least  resistance.  Now  a sensation 
implies  a force  added  to,  or  evolved  in,  that  part  of  the  organism 
which  is  its  seat;  while  a mechanical  movement  implies  an 
expenditure  or  loss  of  force  in  that  part  of  the  organism  which 
is  its  seat.  Hence  if,  as  we  find  to  be  the  fact,  motion  is 
habitually  propagated  from  those  parts  of  an  organism  to 
which  the  external  world  adds  forces  in  the  shape  of  nervous 
impressions,  to  those  parts  of  an  organism  which  react  on  the* 
external  world  through  muscular  contractions,  it  is  simply  a 
fulfillment  of  the  law  above  enunciated.  From  this  general 
conclusion  we  may  pass  to  a more  special  one.  When  there  is 
anything  in  the  circumstances  of  an  animal’s  life,  involving 
that  a sensation  in  one  particular  place  is  habitually  followed 
by  a contraction  in  another  particular  place  — when  there  is 
thus  a frequently-repeated  motion  through  the  organism  be- 
tween these  places;  what  must  be  the  result  as  respects  the 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


205 


line  along  which  the  motions  take  place?  Eestoration  of 
equilibrium  between  the  points  at  which  the  forces  have  been 
increased  and  decreased,  must  take  place  through  some  channel. 
If  this  channel  is  affected  by  the  discharge  — if  the  obstructive 
action  of  the  tissues  traversed,  involves  any  reaction  upon 
them,  deducting  from  their  obstructive  power;  then  a subse- 
quent motion  between  these  two  points  will  meet  with  less 
resistance  along  this  channel  than  the  previous  motion  met 
with ; and  will  consequently  take  this  channel  still  more 
decidedly.  If  so,  every  repetition  will  still  further  diminish 
the  resistance  offered  by  this  route;  and  hence  will  gradually 
be  formed  between  the  two  a permanent  line  of  communication, 
differing  greatly  from  the  surrounding  tissue  in  respect  of  the 
ease  with  which  force  traverses  it.  We  see,  therefore,  that  if 
between  a particular  impression  and  a particular  motion  asso- 
ciated with  it,  there  is  established  a connection  producing  what 
is  called  reflex  action,  the  law  that  motion  follows  the  line  of 
least  resistance,  and  that,  if  the  conditions  remain  constant, 
resistance  in  any  direction  is  diminished  by  motion  occur- 
ring in  that  direction,  supplies  an  explanation.  Without  further 
details  it  will  be  manifest  that  a like  interpretation  may  be 
given  to  the  succession  of  all  other  nervous  changes.  If  in 
the  surrounding  world  there  are  objects,  attributes,  or  actions, 
that  usually  occur  together,  the  effects  severally  produced  by 
them  in  the  organism  will  become  so  connected  by  those 
repetitions  which  we  call  experience,  that  they  also  will  occur 
together.  In  proportion  to  the  frequency  with  which  any 
external  connection  of  phenomena  is  experienced,  will  be  the 
strength  of  the  answering  internal  connection  of  nervous  states. 
Thus  there  will  arise  all  degrees  of  cohesion  among  nervous 
states,  as  there  are  all  degrees  of  commonness  among  the  sur- 
rounding co-existences  and  sequences  that  generate  them : 
whence  must  residt  a general  correspondence  between  associated 
ideas  and  associated  actions  in  the  environment. 

The  relation  between  emotions  and  actions  may  be  similarly 
construed.  As  a first  illustration  let  us  observe  what  happens 
with  emotions  that  are  undirected  by  volitions.  These,  like 
feelings  in  general,  expend  themselves  in  generating  organic 
changes,  and  chiefly  in  muscular  contractions.  As  was  pointed 
out  in.  the  last  chapter,  there  result  movements  of  the  invol- 


20G 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


untary  and  voluntary  muscles,  that  are  great  in  proportion  as 
the  emotions  are  strong.  It  remains  here  to  be  pointed  out, 
however,  that  the  order  in  which  these  muscles  are  affected  is 
explicable  only  on  the  principle  above  set  forth.  Thus,  a 
pleasurable  or  painful  state  of  mind  of  but  slight  intensity,  does 
little  more  than  increase  the  pulsations  of  the  heart.  Why? 
For  the  reason  that  the  relation  between  nervous  excitement 
and  vascular  contraction,  being  common  to  every  genus  and 
species  of  feeling,  is  the  one  of  most  frequent  repetition;  that 
hence  the  nervous  connection  is,  in  the  way  above  shown,  the 
one  which  offers  the  least  resistance  to  a discharge;  and  is 
therefore  the  one  along  which  a feeble  force  produces  motion. 
A sentiment  or  passion  that  is  somewhat  stronger,  affects  not 
only  the  heart  but  the  muscles  of  the  face,  and  especially  those 
around  the  mouth.  Here  the  like  explanation  applies;  since 
these  muscles,  being  both  comparatively  small,  and,  for  pur- 
poses of  speech,  perpetually  used,  offer  less  resistance  than  other 
voluntary  muscles  to  the  nervo-motor  force.  By  a further  in- 
crease of  emotion  the  respiratory  and  vocal  muscles  become  per- 
ceptibly excited.  Finally,  under  strong  passion,  the  muscles  in 
general  of  the  trunk  and  limbs  are  violently  contracted.  With- 
out saying  that  the  facts  can  be  thus  interpreted  in  all  their 
details  (a  task  requiring  data  impossible  to  obtain)  it  may  be 
safely  said  that  the  order  of  excitation  is  from  muscles  that  are 
small  and  frequently  acted  on,  to  those  which  are  larger  and 
less  frequently  acted  on.  The  single  instance  of  laughter,  which 
is  an  undirected  discharge  of  feeling  that  affects  first  the  muscles 
round  the  mouth,  then  those  of  the  vocal  and  respiratory  ap- 
paratus, then  those  of  the  limbs,  and  then  those  of  the  spine; 
suffices  to  show  that  when  no  special  route  is  opened  for  it,  a 
force  evolved  in  the  nervous  centres  produces  motion  along 
channels  which  offer  the  least  resistance,  and  if  it  is  too  great  to 
escape  by  these,  produces  motion  along  channels  offering  suc- 
cessively greater  resistance. 

Probably  it  will  be  thought  impossible  to  extend  this  reason- 
ing so  as  to  include  volitions.  Yet  we  are  not  without  evidence 
that  the  transition  from  special  desires  to  special  muscular  acts, 
conforms  to  the  same  principle.  It  may  be  shown  that  the 
mental  antecedents  of  a voluntary  movement,  are  antecedents 
which  temporarily  make  the  line  along  which  this  movement 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


207 


takes  place,  the  line  of  least  resistance.  For  a volition,  sug- 
gested as  it  necessarily  is  by  some  previous  thought  connected 
with  it  by  associations  that  determine  the  transition,  is  itself  a 
representation  of  the  movements  that  are  willed,  and  of  their 
sequences.  But  to  represent  in  consciousness  certain  of  our 
own  movements  is  partially  to  arouse  the  sensations  accompany- 
ing such  movements,  inclusive  of  those  of  muscular  tension  — is 
partially  to  excite  the  appropriate  motor-nerves  and  all  the 
other  nerves  implicated.  That  is  to  say,  the  volition  is  itself  an 
incipient  discharge  along  a line  which  previous  experiences  have 
rendered  a line  of  least  resistance.  And  the  passing  of  volition 
into  action  is  simply  a completion  of  the  discharge. 

One  corollary  from  this  must  be  noted  before  proceeding; 
namely,  that  the  particular  set  of  muscular  movements  by  which 
any  object  of  desire  is  reached,  are  movements  implying  the 
smallest  total  of  forces  to  be  overcome.  As  each  feeling  gen- 
erates motion  along  the  line  of  least  resistance,  it  is  tolerably  clear 
that  a group  of  feelings,  constituting  a more  or  less  complex 
desire,  will  generate  motion  along  a series  of  lines  of  least  resist- 
ance. That  is  to  say,  the  desired  end  will  be  achieved  with 
the  smallest  expenditure  of  effort.  Should  it  be  objected  that 
through  want  of  knowledge  or  want  of  skill,  a man  often  pursues 
the  more  laborious  of  two  courses,  and  so  overcomes  a larger 
total  of  opposing  forces  than  was  necessary;  the  reply  is,  that 
relatively  to  his  mental  state  the  course  he  takes  is  that  which 
presents  the  fewest  difficulties.  Though  there  is  another  which 
in  the  abstract  is  easier,  yet  his  ignorance  of  it,  or  inability  to 
adopt  it,  is,  physically  considered,  the  existence  of  an  insuper- 
able obstacle  to  the  discharge  of  his  energies  in  that  direction. 
Experience  obtained  by  himself,  or  communicated  by  others,  has 
not  established  in  him  such  channels  of  nervous  communication 
as  are  required  to  make  this  better  course  the  course  of  least 
resistance  to  him. 

§ 80.  As  in  individual  animals,  inclusive  of  man,  motion 
follows  lines  of  least  resistance,  it  is  to  be  inferred  that  among 
aggregations  of  men,  the  like  will  hold  good.  The  changes  in 
a society,  being  due  to  the  joint  actions  of  its  members,  the 
courses  of  such  changes  will  be  determined  as  are  those  of  all 
other  changes  wrought  by  composition  of  forces. 


203 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


Thus  when  we  contemplate  a society  as  an  organism,  and  ob- 
serve the  direction  of  its  growth,  we  find  this  direction  to  be 
that  in  which  the  average  of  opposing  forces  is  the  least.  Its 
units  have  energies  to  be  expended  in  self-maintenance  and  re- 
production. These  energies  are  met  by  various  environing 
energies  that  are  antagonistic  to  them  — those  of  geological 
origin,  those  of  climate,  of  wild  animals,  of  other  human  races 
with  whom  they  are  at  enmity  or  in  competition.  And  the 
tracts  the  society  spreads  over,  are  those  in  which  there  is  the 
smallest  total  antagonism.  Or,  reducing  the  matter  to  its  ulti- 
mate terms,  we  may  say  that  these  social  units  have  jointly  and 
severally  to  preserve  themselves  and  their  offspring  from  those 
inorganic  and  organic  forces  which  are  ever  tending  to  destroy 
them  (either  indirectly  by  oxidation  and  by  undue  abstraction 
of  heat,  or  directly  by  bodily  mutilation)  ; that  these  forces  are 
either  counteracted  by  others,  which  are  available  in  the  shape 
of  food,  clothing,  habitations,  and  appliances  of  defence,  or 
are,  as  far  as  may  be,  eluded;  and  that  population  spreads  in 
whichever  directions  there  is  the  readiest  escape  from  these 
forces;  or  the  least  exertion  in  obtaining  the  materials  for  re- 
sisting them,  or  both.  For  these  reasons  it  happens  that  fertile 
valleys  where  water  and  vegetal  produce  abound,  are  early 
peopled.  Sea-shores,  too,  supplying  a large  amount  of  easily- 
gathered  food,  are  lines  along  which  mankind  have  commonly 
spread. 

The  general  fact  that,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  from  the  traces 
left  by  them,  large  societies  first  appeared  in  those  tropical 
regions  where  the  fruits  of  the  earth  are  obtainable  with  com- 
paratively little  exertion,  and  where  the  cost  of  maintaining 
bodily  heat  is  but  slight,  is  a fact  of  like  meaning.  And  to 
these  instances  may  be  added  the  allied  one  daily  furnished  by 
emigration;  which  we  see  going  on  toward  countries  presenting 
the  fewest  obstacles  to  the  self-preservation  of  individuals,  and 
therefore  to  national  growth,  Similarly  with  that  resistance  to 
the  movements  of  a society  which  neighboring  societies  offer. 
Each  of  the  tribes  or  nations  inhabiting  any  region,  increases  in 
numbers  until  it  outgrows  its  means  of  subsistence.  In  each  there 
is  thus  a force  ever  pressing  outward  on  to  adjacent  areas  — a 
force  antagonized  by  like  forces  in  the  tribes  or  nations  occupy- 
ing those  areas.  And  the  ever-recurring  wars  that  result  — the 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


209 


conquests  of  weaker  tribes  or  nations,  and  the  over-running  of 
their  territories  by  the  victors,  are  instances  of  social  move- 
ments taking  place  in  the  directions  of  least  resistance.  Nor 
do  the  conquered  peoples,  when  they  escape  extermination  or 
enslavement,  fail  to  show  us  movements  that  are  similarly  de- 
termined. For  migrating  as  they  do  to  less  fertile  regions  — 
taking  refuge  in  deserts  or  among  mountains  — moving  in  a 
direction  where  the  resistance  to  social  growth  is  comparatively 
great;  they  still  do  this  only  under  air  excess  of  pressure  in  all 
other  directions : the  physical  obstacles  to  self-preservation  they 
encounter  being  really  less  than  the  obstacles  offered  by  the 
enemies  from  whom  they  fly. 

Internal  social  movements  may  also  be  thus  interpreted. 
Localities  naturally  fitted  for  producing  particular  commodities 
— that  is,  localities  in  which  such  commodities  are  got  at  the 
least  cost  of  force  — that  is,  localities  in  which  the  desires  for 
these  commodities  meet  with  the  least  resistance;  become  local- 
ities especially  devoted  to  the  obtainment  of  these  commodities. 
Where  soil  and  climate  render  wheat  a profitable  crop,  or  a crop 
from  which  the  greatest  amount  of  life-sustaining  power  is 
gained  by  a given  quantity  of  effort,  the  growth  of  wheat  becomes 
the  dominant  industry.  Where  wheat  cannot  be  economically 
produced,  oats,  or  rye,  or  maize,  or  rice,  or  potatoes,  is  the 
agricultural  staple.  Along  sea-shores  men  support  themselves 
with  least  effort  by  catching  fish ; and  hence  choose  fishing  as  an 
occupation.  And  in  places  that  are  rich  in  coal  or  metallic 
ores,  the  population,  finding  that  labor  devoted  to  the  raising 
of  these  materials  brings  a larger  return  of  food  and  clothing 
than  when  otherwise  directed,  becomes  a population  of  miners. 
This  last  instance  introduces  us  to  the  phenomena  of  exchange; 
which  equally  illustrate  the  general  law.  For  the  practice  of 
barter  begins  as  soon  as  it  facilitates  the  fulfilment  of  men’s 
desires,  by  diminishing  the  exertion  needed  to  reach  the  ob- 
jects of  those  desires.  When  instead  of  growing  his  own  corn, 
weaving  his  own  cloth,  sewing  his  own  shoes,  each  man  began 
to  confine  himself  to  farming,  or  weaving,  or  shoemaking ; it  was 
because  each  found  it  more  laborious  to  make  everything  he 
wanted,  than  to  make  a great  quantity  of  one  thing  and  barter 
the  surplus  for  the  rest:  by  exchange,  each  procured  the  neces- 
saries of  life  without  encountering  so  much  resistance.  More- 


210 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


over,  in  deciding  what  commodity  to  produce,  each  citizen  was, 
as  he  is  at  the  present  day,  guided  in  the  same  manner.  For 
besides  those  local  conditions  which  determine  whole  sections  of 
a society  toward  the  industries  easiest  for  them,  there  are 
also  individual  conditions  and  individual  aptitudes  which  to 
each  citizen  render  certain  occupations  preferable;  and  in  choos- 
ing those  forms  of  activity  which  their  special  circumstances  and 
faculties  dictate,  these  social  units  are  severally  moving  toward 
the  objects  of  their  desires  in  the  directions  which  present  to 
them  the  fewest  obstacles.  The  process  of  transfer  which  com- 
merce presupposes,  supplies  another  series  of  examples.  So 
long  as  the  forces  to  be  overcome  in  procuring  any  necessary 
of  life  in  the  district  where  it  is  consumed,  are  less  than  the 
forces  to  be  overcome  in  procuring  it  from  an  adjacent  district, 
exchange  does  not  take  place.  But  when  the  adjacent  district 
produces  it  with  an  economy  that  is  not  outbalanced  by  cost  of 
transit  — when  the  distance  is  so  small  and  the  route  so  easy  that 
the  labor  of  conveyance  plus  the  labor  of  production  is  less  than 
the  labor  of  production  in  the  consuming  district,  transfer  com- 
mences. Movement  in  the  direction  of  least  resistance  is  also 
seen  in  the  establishment  of  the  channels  along  which  intercourse 
takes  place.  At  the  outset,  when  goods  are  carried  on  the 
backs  of  men  and  horses,  the  paths  chosen  are  those  which  com- 
bine shortness  with  levelness  and  freedom  from  obstacles  — 
those  which  are  achieved  with  the  smallest  exertion.  And  in 
the  subsequent  formation  of  each  highway,  the  course  taken  is 
that  which  deviates  horizontally  from  a straight  line  so  far  only 
as  is  needful  to  avoid  vertical  deviations  entailing  greater  labor 
in  draught.  The  smallest  total  of  obstructive  forces  determines 
the  route,  even  in  seemingly  exceptional  cases ; as  where  a detour 
is  made  to  avoid  the  opposition  of  a landowner.  All  subsequent 
improvements,  ending  in.  macadamized  roads,  canals,  and  rail- 
ways, which  reduce  the  antagonism  of  friction  and  gravity  to  a 
minimum,  exemplify  the  same  truth.  After  there  comes  to  be  a 
choice  of  roads  between  one  point  and  another,  we  still  see  that 
the  road  chosen  is  that  along  which  the  cost  of  transit  is  the 
least:  cost  being  the  measure  of  resistance.  Even  where,  time 
being  a consideration,  the  more  expensive  route  is  followed,  it  is 
so  because  the  loss  of  time  involves  loss  of  force.  When,  division 
of  labor  having  been  carried  to  a considerable  extent  and  means 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


211 


of  communication  made  easy,  there  arises  a marked  localiza- 
tion of  industries,  the  relative  growths  of  the  populations  de- 
voted to  them  may  be  interpreted  on  the  same  principle.  The 
influx  of  people  to  each  industrial  centre,  as  well  as  the  rate  of 
multiplication  of  those  already  inhabiting  it,  is  determined  by 
the  payment  for  labor ; that  is  — b}r  the  quantity  of  commodities 
which  a given  amount  of  effort  will  obtain.  To  say  that 
artisans  flock  to  places  where,  in  consequence  of  facilities  for 
production,  an  extra  proportion  of  produce  can  be  given  in  the 
shape  of  wages ; is  to  say  that  they  flock  to  places  where  there  are 
the  smallest  obstacles  to  the  support  of  themselves  and  families. 
Hence,  the  rapid  increase  of  number  which  occurs  in  such  places, 
is  really  a social  growth  at  points  where  the  opposing  forces  are 
the  least. 

Nor  is  the  law  less  clearly  to  be  traced  in  those  functional 
changes  daily  going  on.  The  flow  of  capital  into  businesses 
yielding  the  largest  returns ; the  buying  in  the  cheapest  market 
and  selling  in  the  dearest;  the  introduction  of  more  economical 
modes  of  manufacture;  the  development  of  better  agencies  for 
distribution;  and  all  those  variations  in  the  currents  of  trade 
that  are  noted  in  our  newspapers  and  telegrams  from  hour  to 
hour;  exhibit  movement  taking  place  in  directions  where  it  is 
met  by  the  smallest  total  of  opposing  forces.  For  if  we  analyze 
each  of  these  changes  — if  instead  of  interest  on  capital  we  read 
surplus  of  products  which  remains  after  maintenance  of  la- 
borers ; if  we  so  interpret  large  interest  or  large  surplus  to  imply 
labor  expended  with  the  greatest  results;  and  if  labor  expended 
with  the  greatest*  results  means  muscular  action  so  directed  as 
to  evade  obstacles  as  far  as  possible;  we  see  that  all  these  com- 
mercial phenomena  are  complicated  motions  set  up  along  lines 
of  least  resistance. 

Objections  of  two  opposite  kinds  will  perhaps  be  made  to 
these  sociological  applications  of  the  law.  By  some  it  may 
be  said  that  the  term  force  as  here  used,  is  used  metaphorically 
— that  to  speak  of  men  as  impelled  in  certain  directions  bjr 
certain  desires,  is  a figure  of  speech  and  not  the  statement  of  a 
physical  fact.  The  reply  is,  that  the  foregoing  illustrations  are 
to  be  interpreted  literally,  and  that  the  processes  described  are 
physical  ones.  The  pressure  of  hunger  is  an  actual  force  — a 
sensation  implying  some  state  of  nervous  tension;  and  the  mus- 


212 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


cular  action  which  the  sensation  prompts  is  really  a discharge 
of  it  in  the  shape  of  bodily  motion  — a discharge  which,  on  ana- 
lyzing the  mental  acts  involved,  will  be  found  to  follow  lines  of 
least  resistance.  Hence  the  motions  of  a society  whose  mem- 
bers are  impelled  by  this  or  any  other  desire,  are  actually,  and 
not  metaphorically,  to  be  understood  in  the  manner  shown.  An 
opposite  objection  may  possibly  be,  that  the  several  illustrations 
given  are  elaborated  truisms;  and  that  the  law  of  direction  of 
motion  being  once  recognized,  the  fact  that  social  movements,  in 
common  with  all  others,  must  conform  to  it,  follows  inevitably. 
To  this  it  may  be  rejoined,  that  a mere  abstract  assertion  that 
social  movements  must  do  this  would  carry  no  conviction  to  the 
majority  and  that  it  is  needful  to  show  how  they  do  it.  For 
social  phenomena  to  be  unified  with  phenomena  of  simpler  kinds, 
it  is  requisite  that  such  generalizations  as  those  of  political 
economy  shall  be  reduced  to  equivalent  propositions  expressed  in 
terms  of  force  and  motion. 

Social  movements  of  these  various  orders  severally  conform 
to  the  two  derivative  principles  named  at  the  outset.  In  the 
first  place  we  may  observe  how,  once  set  up  in  given  directions, 
such  movements,  like  all  others,  tend  to  continue  in  these  direc- 
tions. A commercial  mania  or  panic,  a current  of  commod- 
ities, a social  custom,  a political  agitation,  or  a popular  delu- 
sion, maintains  its  course  for  a long  time  after  its  original  source 
has  ceased ; and  requires  antagonistic  forces  to  arrest  it.  In  the 
second  place  it  is  to  be  noted  that  in  proportion  to  the  com- 
plexity of  social  forces  is  the  tortuousness  of  social  movements. 
The  involved  series  of  muscular  contractions  gone  through  by 
the  artisan,  that  he  may  get  the  wherewithal  to  buy  a loaf 
lying  at  the  baker’s  next  door,  show  us  how  extreme  becomes  the 
indirectness  of  motion  when  the  agencies  at  work  become  very 
numerous  — a truth  still  better  illustrated  by  the  more  public 
social  actions;  as  those  which  end  in  bringing  a successful  man 
of  business,  toward  the  close  of  his  life,  into  Parliament. 

§ 81.  And  now  of  the  general  truth  set  forth  in  this  chapter, 
as  of  that  dealt  with  in  the  last,  let  us  ask  — what  is  our  ultimate 
evidence  ? Must  we  accept  it  simply  as  an  empirical  generaliza- 
tion? or  may  it  be  established  as  a corollary  from  a still  deeper 
truth  ? The  reader  will  anticipate  the  apswer.  We  shall  find 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


212 


it  deducible  from  that  datum  of  consciousness  which  underlies  all 
science. 

Suppose  several  tractive  forces,  variously  directed,  to  be 
acting  on  a given  body.  By  what  is  known  among  mathe- 
maticians as  the  composition  of  forces,  there  may  be  found  for 
any  two  of  these,  a single  force  of  such  amount  and  direction  as 
to  produce  on  the  body  an  exactly  equal  effect.  If  in  the  direc- 
tion of  each  of  them  there  be  drawn  a straight  line,  and  if  the 
lengths  of  these  two  straight  lines  be  made  proportionate  to 
the  amounts  of  the  forces;  and  if  from  the  end  of  each  line 
there  be  drawn  a line  parallel  to  the  other,  so  as  to  complete  a 
parallelogram;  then  the  diagonal  of  this  parallelogram  repre- 
sents the  amount  and  direction  of  a force  that  is  equivalent  to 
the  two.  Such  a resultant  force,  as  it  is  called,  may  be  found 
for  any  pair  of  forces  throughout  the  group.  Similarly,  for  any 
pair  of  such  resultants  a single  resultant  may  be  found.  And 
by  repeating  this  course,  all  of  them  may  be  reduced  to  two. 
If  these  two  are  equal  and  opposite  — that  is,  if  there  is  no  line 
of  greatest  traction,  motion  does  not  take  place.  If  they  are 
opposite  but  not  equal,  motion  takes  place  in  the  direction  of 
the  greater.  And  if  they  are  neither  equal  nor  opposite,  motion 
takes  place  in  the  direction  of  their  resultant.  For  in  either  of 
these  cases  there  is  an  unantagonized  force  in  one  direction. 
And  this  residuary  force  that  is  not  neutralized  by  an  opposing 
one,  must  move  the  body  in  the  direction  in  which  it  is  acting. 
To  assert  the  contrary  is  to  assert  that  a force  can  be  expended 
without  effect  — without  generating  an  equivalent  force ; and 
by  so  implying  that  force  can  cease  to  exist,  this  involves  a de- 
nial of  the  persistence  of  force.  It  needs  scarcely  be  added  that 
if  in  place  of  tractions  we  take  resistances,  the  argument  equally 
holds ; and  that  it  holds  also  where  both  tractions  and  resistances 
are  concerned.  Thus  the  law  that  motion  follows  the  line  of 
greatest  traction,  or  the  line  of  least  resistance,  or  the  resultant 
of  the  two,  is  a necessary  deduction  from  that  primordial  truth 
which  transcends  proof. 

Beduce  the  proposition  to  its  simplest  form,  and  it  becomes 
still  more  obviously  consequent  on  the  persistence  of  force. 
Suppose  two  weights  suspended  over  a pulley  or  from  the  ends 
of  an  equal-armed  lever ; or  better  still  — suppose  two  men 
pulling  against  each  other.  In  such  cases  we  say  that  the 


214 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


heavier  weight  will  descend,  and  that  the  stronger  man  will 
draw  the  weaker  toward  him.  Bnt  now,  if  we  are  asked  how  we 
know  which  is  the  heavier  weight  or  the  stronger  man;  we  can 
only  reply  that  it  is  the  one  producing  motion  in  the  direction 
of  its  pull.  Our  only  evidence  of  excess  of  force  is  the  move- 
ment it  produces.  But  if  of  two  opposing  tractions  we  can  know 
one  as  greater  than  the  other  only  by  the  motion  it  generates  in 
its  own  direction,  then  the  assertion  that  motion  occurs  in  the 
direction  of  greatest  traction  is  a truism.  When,  going  a step 
further  back,  we  seek  a warrant  for  the  assumption  that  of  the 
two  conflicting  forces,  that  is  the  greater  which  produces  motion 
in  its  own  direction,  we  find  no  other  than  the  consciousness  that 
such  part  of  the  greater  force  as  is  unneutralized  by  the  lesser, 
must  produce  its  effect  — five  consciousness  that  this  residuary 
force  cannot  disappear,  but  must  manifest  itself  in  some  equiv- 
alent change  — the  consciousness  that  force  is  persistent.  Here, 
too,  as  before,  it  may  be  remarked  that  no  amount  of  varied 
illustrations,  like  those  of  which  this  chapter  mainly  consists, 
can  give  greater  certainty  to  the  conclusion  thus  immediately 
drawn  from  the  ultimate  datum  of  consciousness.  For  in  all 
cases,  as  in  the  simple  ones  just  given,  we  can  identify  the  great- 
est force  only  by  the  resulting  motion.  It  is  impossible  for  us 
ever  to  get  evidence  of  the  occurrence  of  motion  in  any  other 
direction  than  that  of  the  greatest  force;  since  our  measure  of 
relative  greatness  among  forces  is  their  relative  power  of  gen- 
erating motion.  And  clearly,  while  the  comparative  greatness 
of  forces  is  thus  determined,  no  multiplication  of  instances  can 
add  certainty  to  a law  of  direction  of  movement  which  follows 
immediately  from  the  persistence  of  force. 

From  this  same  primordial  truth,  too,  may  be  deduced  the 
principle  that  motion  once  set  up  along  any  line,  becomes  itself 
a cause  of  subsequent  motion  along  that  line.  The  mechanical 
axiom  that,  if  left  to  itself,  matter  moving  in  any  direction  will 
continue  in  that  direction  with  undiminished  velocity,  is  but 
an  indirect  assertion  of  the  persistence  of  force;  since  it  is  an 
assertion  that  the  force  manifested  in  the  transfer  of  a body 
along  a certain  length  of  a certain  line  in  a certain  time,  cannot 
disappear  without  producing  some  equal  manifestation  — a 
manifestation  which,  in  the  absence  of  conflicting  forces,  must 
be  a further  transfer  in  the  same  direction  at  the  same  velocity. 


THE  DIRECTION  OF  MOTION 


215 


In  the  case  of  matter  traversing  matter  the  like  inference  is 
necessitated.  Here  indeed  the  actions  are  much  more  com- 
plicated. A liquid  that  follows  a certain  channel  through  or 
over  a solid,  as  water  along  the  Earth’s  surface,  loses  part  of  its 
motion  in  the  shape  of  heat,  through  friction  and  collision  with 
the  matters  forming  its  bed.  A further  amount  of  its  motion 
may  be  absorbed  in  overcoming  forces  which  it  liberates;  as 
when  it  loosens  a mass  which  falls  into,  and  blocks  up,  its  chan- 
nel. But  after  these  deductions  by  transformation  into  other 
modes  of  force,  any  further  deduction  from  the  motion  of  the 
water  is  at  the  expense  of  a reaction  on  the  channel,  which  by 
so  much  diminishes  its  obstructive  power:  such  reaction  being 
shown  in  the  motion  acquired  by  the  detached  portions  which  are 
carried  away.  The  cutting  out  of  river-courses  is  a perpetual 
illustration  of  this  truth.  Still  more  involved  is  the  case  of 
motion  passing  through  matter  by  impulse  from  part  to  part ; as 
a nervous  discharge  through  animal  tissue.  Some  chemical 
change  may  be  wrought  along  the  route  traversed,  which  may 
render  it  less  fit  than  before  for  conveying  a current.  Or  the 
motion  may  itself  be  in  part  metamorphosed  into  some  obstruct- 
ive form  of  force;  as  in  metals,  the  conducting  power  of  which 
is,  for  the  time,  decreased  by  the  heat  which  the  passage  of  elec- 
tricity itself  generates.  The  real  question  is,  however,  what 
structural  modification,  if  any,  is  produced  throughout  the  mat- 
ter traversed,  apart  from  incidental  disturbing  forces  — apart 
from  everything  but  the  necessary  resistance  of  the  matter : that, 
namely,  which  results  from  the  inertia  of  its  units.  If  we  con- 
fine our  attention  to  that  part  of  the  motion  which,  escaping 
transformation,  continues  its  course,  then  it  is  a corollary  from 
the  persistence  of  force  that  as  much  of  this  remaining  motion 
as  is  taken  up  in  changing  the  positions  of  the  units,  must  leave 
these  by  so  much  less  able  to  obstruct  subsequent  motion  in  the 
same  direction. 

Thus  in  all  the  changes  heretofore  and  at  present  displayed  by 
the  Solar  System;  in  all  those  that  have  gone  on  and  are  still 
going  on  in  the  Earth’s  crust ; in  all  processes  of  organic  develop- 
ment and  function;  in  all  mental  actions  and  the  effects  they 
work  on  the  body;  and  in  all  modifications  of  structure  and 
activity  in  societies;  the  implied  movements  are  of  necessity  de- 
termined in  the  manner  above  set  forth.  Wherever  we  see  mo- 


216 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


tion,  its  direction  must  be  that  of  the  greatest  force.  Wherever 
we  see  the  greatest  force  to  he  acting  in  a given  direction,  in  that 
direction  motion  must  ensue.  These  are  not  truths  holding  only 
of  one  class,  or  of  some  classes,  of  phenomena ; but  they  are 
among  those  universal  truths  hy  which  our  knowledge  of 
phenomena  in  general  is  unified. 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


217 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION. 

§ 82.  When  the  pennant  of  a vessel  tying  becalmed  first 
shows  the  coming  breeze,  it  does  so  by  gentle  undulations  that 
travel  from  its  fixed  to  its  free  end.  Presently  the  sails  begin 
to  flap ; and  their  blows  against  the  mast  increase  in  rapidity  as 
the  breeze  arises.  Even  when,  being  fully  bellied  out,  they  are 
in  great  part  steadied  by  the  strain  of  the  yards  and  cordage, 
their  free  edges  tremble  with  each  stronger  gust.  And  should 
there  come  a gale,  the  jar  that  is  felt  on  laying  hold  of  the 
shrouds  shows  that  the  rigging  vibrates;  while  the  rush  and 
whistle  of  the  wind  prove  that  in  it,  also,  rapid  undulations  are 
generated.  Ashore  the  conflict  between  the  current  of  air  and 
the  things  it  meets  results  in  a like  rhythmical  action.  The 
leaves  all  shiver  in  the  blast;  each  branch  oscillates;  and  every 
exposed  tree  sways  to  and  fro.  The  blades  of  grass  and  dried 
bents  in  the  meadows,  and  still  better  the  stalks  in  the  neighbor- 
ing cornfields,  exhibit  the  same  rising  and  falling  movement. 
Nor  do  the  more  stable  objects  fail  to  do  the  like,  though  in  a 
less  manifest  fashion;  as  witness  the  shudder  that  may  be  felt 
throughout  a house  during  the  paroxysms  of  a violent  storm. 
Streams  of  water  produce  in  opposing  objects  the  same  general 
effects  as  do  streams  of  air.  Submerged  weeds  growing  in  the 
middle  of  a brook  undulate  from  end  to  end.  Branches  brought 
down  by  the  last  flood,  and  left  entangled  at  the  bottom  where 
the  current  is  rapid,  are  thrown  into  a state  of  up  and  down 
movement  that  is  slow  or  quick  in  proportion  as  they  are  large 
or  small;  and  where,  as  in  great  rivers  like  the  Mississippi, 
whole  trees  are  thus  held,  the  name  “ sawyers,”  by  which  they  are 
locally  known,  sufficiently  describes  the  rhythm  produced  in 
them.  Note  again  the  effect  of  the  antagonism  between  the 
current  and  its  channel.  In  shallow  places,  where  the  action  of 
the  bottom  on  the  water  flowing  over  it  is  visible,  we  see  a 


21S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ripple  produced  — a series  of  undulations.  And  if  we  study  the 
action  and  reaction  going  on  between  the  moving  fluid  and  its 
banks,  we  still  find  the  principle  illustrated,  though  in  a dif- 
ferent way.  For  in  every  rivulet,  as  in  the  mapped-out  course  of 
every  great  river,  the  bends  of  the  stream  from  side  to  side 
throughout  its  tortuous  course  constitute  a lateral  undulation  — 
an  undulation  so  inevitable  that  even  an  artificially  straightened 
channel  is  eventually  changed  into  a serpentine  one.  Analogous 
phenomena  may  be  observed  where  the  water  is  stationary  and 
the  solid  matter  moving.  A stick  drawn  laterally  through  the 
water  with  much  force,  proves  by  the  throb  which  it  communi- 
cates to  the  hand  that  it  is  in  a state  of  vibration.  Even  where 
the  moving  body  is  massive,  it  only  requires  that  great  force 
should  be  applied  to  get  a sensible  effect  of  like  kind:  instance 
the  screw  of  a screw-steamer,  which  instead  of  a smooth  rotation 
falls  into  a rapid  rhythm  that  sends  a tremor  through  the 
whole  vessel.  The  sound  which  results  when  a bow  is  drawn  over 
a violin-string,  shows  us  vibrations  produced  by  the  movement  of 
a solid  over  a solid.  In  lathes  and  planing  machines,  the  at- 
tempt to  take  off  a thick  shaving  causes  a violent  jar  of  the 
whole  apparatus,  and  the  production  of  a series  of  waves  on  the 
iron  or  wood  that  is  cut.  Every  boy  in  scraping  his  slate- 
pencil  finds  it  scarcely  possible  to  help  making  a ridged  surface. 
If  you  roll  a ball  along  the  ground  or  over  the  ice,  there  is 
always  more  or  less  up  and  down  movement  — a movement  that 
is  visible  while  the  velocity  is  considerable,  but  becomes  too  small 
and  rapid  to  be  seen  by  the  unaided  eye  as  the  velocity  di- 
minishes. However  smooth  the  rails,  and  however  perfectly 
built  the  carriages,  a railway  train  inevitably  gets  into  oscilla- 
tions, both  lateral  and  vertical.  Even  where  moving  matter  is 
suddenly  arrested  by  collision,  the  law  is  still  illustrated;  for 
both  the  body  striking  and  the  body  struck  are  made  to  tremble ; 
and  trembling  is  rhythmical  movement.  Little  as  we  habitually 
observe  it,  it  is  yet  certain  that  the  impulses  our  actions  im- 
press from  moment  to  moment  on  surrounding  objects,  are  prop- 
agated through  them  in  vibrations.  It  needs  but  to  look  through 
a telescope  of  high  power,  to  be  convinced  that  each  pulsation 
of  the  heart  gives  a jar  to  the  whole  room.  If  we  pass  to  mo- 
tions of  another  order — -those  namely  which  take  place  in  the 
ethereal  medium  — we  still  find  the  same  thing.  Every  fresh  dis- 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


219 


covery  confirms  the  hypothesis  that  light  consists  of  undulations. 
The  rays  of  heat,  too,  are  now  found  to  have  a like  fundamental 
nature : their  undulations  differing  from  those  of  light  only  in 
their  comparative  lengths.  ISTor  do  the  movements  of  electricity 
fail  to  furnish  us  with  an  illustration ; though  one  of  a different 
order.  The  northern  aurora  may  often  be  observed  to  pulsate 
with  waves  of  greater  brightness;  and  the  electric  discharge 
through  a vacuum  shows  us  by  its  stratified  appearance  that  the 
current  is  not  uniform,  but  comes  in  gushes  of  greater  and 
lesser  intensity.  Should  it  be  said  that  at  any  rate  there  are 
some  motions,  as  those  of  projectiles,  which  are  not  rhythmical, 
the  reply  is,  that  the  exception  is  apparent  only;  and  that  these 
motions  would  be  rhythmical  if  they  were  not  interrupted.  It  is 
common  to  assert  that  the  trajectory  of  a cannon  ball  is  a para- 
bola; and  it  is  true  that  (omitting  atmospheric  resistance)  the 
curve  described  differs  so  slightly  from  a parabola  that  it  may 
practically  be  regarded  as  one.  But,  strictly  speaking,  it  is  a por- 
tion of  an  extremely  eccentric  ellipse,  having  the  Earth’s  centre 
of  gravity  for  its  remoter  focus ; and  but  for  its  arrest  by  the  sub- 
stance of  the  Earth,  the  cannon  ball  would  travel  round  that 
focus  and  return  to  the  point  whence  it  started ; again  to  repeat 
this  slow  rhythm.  Indeed,  while  seeming  at  first  sight  to  do  the 
reverse,  the  discharge  of  a cannon  furnishes  one  of  the  best  illus- 
trations of  the  principle  enunciated.  The  explosion  produces 
violent  undulations  in  the  surrounding  air.  The  whiz  of  the 
shot,  as  it  flies  toward  its  mark,  is  due  to  another  series  of  at- 
mospheric undulations.  And  the  movement  to  and  from  the 
Earth’s  centre,  which  the  cannon  ball  is  beginning  to  perform, 
being  checked  by  solid  matter,  is  transformed  into  a rhythm  of 
another  order;  namely,  the  vibration  which  the  blow  sends 
through  neighboring  bodies.1 

Rhythm  is  very  generally  not  simple  but  compound.  There 
are  usually  at  work  various  forces,  causing  undulations  differing 
in  rapidity;  and  hence  it  continually  happens  that  besides  the 
primary  rhythms  there  are  secondary  rhythms,  produced  by  the 
periodic  coincidence  and  antagonism  of  the  primary  ones. 
Double,  triple,  and  even  quadruple  rhythms,  are  thus  generated. 

1 After  having  for  some  years  supposed  myself  alone  in  the  belief  that 
all  motion  is  rhythmical,  I discovered  that  my  friend  Professor  Tyndall 
also  held  this  doctrine. 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


220 


One  of  the  simplest  instances  is  afforded  by  what  in  acoustics  are 
known  as  “ beats  ” : recurring  intervals  of  sound  and  silence 
which  are  perceived  when  two  notes  of  nearly  the  same  pitch 
are  struck  together;  and  which  are  due  to  the  alternate  corre- 
spondence and  antagonism  of  the  atmospheric  waves.  In  like 
manner  the  various  phenomena  due  to  what  is  called  interference 
of  light,  severally  result  from  the  periodic  agreement  and  dis- 
agreement of  ethereal  undulations  — undulations  which,  by  alter- 
nate^ intensifying  and  neutralizing  each  other,  produce  intervals 
of  increased  and  diminished  light.  On  the  sea-shore  may  be 
noted  sundry  instances  of  compound  rhythm.  We  have  that  of 
the  tides,  in  which  the  daily  rise  and  fall  undergoes  a fort- 
nightly increase  and  decrease,  due  to  the  alternate  coincidence 
and  antagonism  of  the  solar  and  lunar  attractions.  We  have 
again  that  which  is  perpetually  furnished  by  the  surface  of  the 
sea:  every  large  wave  bearing  smaller  ones  on  its  sides,  and 
these  still  smaller  ones ; with  the  result  that  each  flake  of  foam, 
along  with  the  portion  of  water  bearing  it,  undergoes  minor 
ascents  and  descents  of  several  orders  while  it  is  being  raised 
and  lowered  by  the  greater  billows.  A quite  different  and  very 
interesting  example  of  compound  rhythm,  occurs  in  the  little 
rills  which,  at  low  tide,  run  over  the  sand  out  of  the  shingle 
banks  above.  Where  the  channel  of  one  of  these  is  narrow,  and 
the  stream  runs  strongly,  the  sand  at  the  bottom  is  raised  into  a 
series  of  ridges  corresponding  to  the  ripple  of  the  water.  On 
watching  for  a short  time,  it  will  be  seen  that  these  ridges  are 
being  raised  higher  and  the  ripple  growing  stronger;  until  at 
length,  the  action  becoming  violent,  the  whole  series  of  ridges 
is  suddenly  swept  away,  the  stream  runs  smoothly,  and  the 
process  commences  afresh.  Instances  of  still  more  complex 
rhythms  might  be  added ; but  they  will  come  more  appropriately 
in  connection  with  the- several  kinds  of  cosmical  changes,  here- 
after to  be  dealt  with. 

From  the  ensemble  of  the  facts  as  above  set  forth,  it  will  be 
seen  that  rhythm  results  wherever  there  is  a conflict  of  forces 
not  in  equilibrium.  If  the  antagonist  forces  at  any  point  are 
balanced,  there  is  rest;  and  in  the  absence  of  motion  there  can 
of  course  be  no  rhythm.  But  if  instead  of  a balance  there  is 
an  excess  of  force  in  one  direction  — if,  as  necessarily  follows, 
motion  is  set  up  in  that  direction ; then  for  that  motion  to  con- 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


221 


tinue  uniformly  in  that  direction,  it  is  requisite  that  the  moving 
matter  should,  notwithstanding  its  unceasing  change  of  place, 
present  unchanging  relations  to  the  sources  of  force  by  which 
its  motion  is  produced  and  opposed.  This  however  is  imposs- 
ible. Every  further  transfer  through  space  must  alter  the  ratio 
between  the  forces  concerned  — must  increase  or  decrease  the 
predominance  of  one  force  over  the  other  — must  prevent  uni- 
formity of  movement.  And  if  the  movement  cannot  be  uni- 
form, then,  in  the  absence  of  acceleration  or  retardation  con- 
tinued through  infinite  time  and  space  (results  which  cannot  be 
conceived)  the  only  alternative  is  rhythm. 

A secondary  conclusion  must  not  be  omitted.  In  the  last 
chapter  we  saw  that  motion  is  never  absolutely  rectilinear;  and 
here  it  remains  to  be  added  that,  as  a consequence,  rhythm  is 
necessarily  incomplete.  A truly  rectilinear  rhythm  can  arise 
only  when  the  opposing  forces  are  in  exactly  the  same  line ; and 
the  probabilities  against  this  are  infinitely  great.  To  generate 
a perfectly  circular  rhythm,  the  two  forces  concerned  must  be 
exactly  at  right  angles  to  each  other,  and  must  have  exactly  a 
certain  ratio ; and  against  this  the  probabilities  are  likewise  in- 
finitely great.  All  other  proportions  and  directions  of  the  two 
forces  will  produce  an  ellipse  of  greater  or  less  eccentricity. 
And  when,  as  indeed  always  happens,  above  two  forces  are  en- 
gaged, the  curve  described  must  be  more  complex;  and  cannot 
exactly  repeat  itself.  So  that  in  fact  throughout  nature,  this 
action  and  reaction  of  forces  never  brings  about  a complete 
return  to  a previous  state.  Where  the  movement  is  much  in- 
volved, and  especially  where  it  is  that  of  some  aggregate  whose 
units  are  partially  independent,  anything  like  a regular  curve 
is  no  longer  traceable;  we  see  nothing  more  than  a general 
oscillation.  And  on  the  completion  of  any  periodic  movement, 
the  degree  in  which  the  state  arrived  at  differs  from  the  state 
departed  from,  is  usually  marked  in  proportion  as  the  in- 
fluences at  work  are  numerous. 

§ 83.  That  spiral  arrangement  so  general  among  the  more 
diffused  nebulae  — an  arrangement  which  must  be  assumed  by 
matter  moving  toward  a centre  of  gravity  through  a resisting 
medium  — shows  us  the  progressive  establishment  of  revolution, 
and  therefore  of  rhythm,  in  those  remote  spaces  which  the 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


nebulae  occupy.  Double  stars,  moving  round  common  centres 
of  gravity  in  periods  some  of  which  are  now  ascertained,  exhibit 
settled  rhythmical  actions  in  distant  parts  of  our  sidereal  system. 
And  another  fact  which,  though  of  a different  order,  has  a like 
general  significance,  is  furnished  by  variable  stars  — stars  which 
alternately  brighten  and  fade. 

The  periodicities  of  the  planets,  satellites,  and  comets,  are  so 
familiar  that  it  would  be  inexcusable  to  name  them,  were  it 
not  needful  here  to  point  out  that  they  are  so  many  grand 
illustrations  of  this  general  law  of  movement.  But  besides  the 
revolutions  of  these  bodies  in  their  orbits  (all  more  or  less  eccen- 
tric) and  their  rotations  on  their  axes,  the  Solar  System  pre- 
sents us  with  various  rhythms  of  a less  manifest  and  more 
complex  kind.  In  each  planet  and  satellite  there  is  the  revolu- 
tion of  the  nodes  — a slow  change  in  the  position  of  the  orbit- 
plane,  which  after  completing  itself  commences  afresh.  There 
is  the  gradual  alteration  in  the  length  of  the  axis  major  of  the 
orbit ; and  also  of  its  eccentricity : both  of  which  are  rhythmical 
alike  in  the  sense  that  they  alternate  between  maxima  and 
minima,  and  in  the  sense  that  the  progress  from  one  extreme 
to  the  other  is  not  uniform,  but  is  made  with  fluctuating  velocity. 
Then,  too,  there  is  the  revolution  of  the  line  of  apsides,  which  in 
course  of  time  moves  round  the  heavens  — not  regularly,  but 
through  complex  oscillations.  And  further  we  have  variations 
in  the  directions  of  the  planetary  axes  — that  known  as  nuta- 
tion, and  that  larger  gyration  which,  in  the  case  of  the  Earth, 
causes  the  precession  of  the  equinoxes.  These  rhythms,  already 
more  or  less  compound,  are  compounded  with  each  other.  Such 
an  instance  as  the  secular  acceleration  and  retardation  of  the 
moon,  consequent  on  the  varying  eccentricity  of  the  Earth’s 
orbit,  is  one  of  the  simplest.  Another,  having  more  important 
consequences,  results  from  the  changing  direction  of  the  axes  of 
rotation  in  planets  whose  orbits  are  decidedly  eccentric.  Every 
planet,  during  a certain  long  period,  presents  more  of  its  north- 
ern than  of  its  southern  hemisphere  to  the  sun  at  the  time  of  its 
nearest  approach  to  him ; and  then  again,  during  a like  period, 
presents  more  of  its  southern  hemisphere  than  of  its  northern  — 
a recurring  coincidence  which,  though  causing  in  some  planets 
no  sensible  alterations  of  climate,  involves  in  the  case  of  the 
Earth  an  epoch  of  21,000  years,  during  which  each  hemisphere 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


223 


goes  through  a cycle  of  temperate  seasons,  and  seasons  that  are 
extreme  in  their  heat  and  cold.  Nor  is  this  all.  There  is  even 
a variation  of  this  variation.  For  the  summers  and  winters  of 
the  whole  Earth  become  more  or  less  strongly  contrasted,  as  the 
eccentricity  of  its  orbit  increases  and  decreases.  Hence  during 
increase  of  the  eccentricity,  the  epochs  of  moderately  con- 
trasted seasons  and  epochs  of  strongly  contrasted  seasons,  through 
which  alternately  each  hemisphere  passes,  must  grow  more  and 
more  different  in  the  degrees  of  their  contrasts ; and  contrari- 
wise during  decrease  of  the  eccentricity.  So  that  in  the  quantity 
of  light  and  heat  which  any  portion  of  the  Earth  receives  from 
the  sun,  there  goes  on  a quadruple  rhythm:  that  of  day  and 
night ; that  of  summer  and  winter ; that  due  to  the  changing 
position  of  the  axis  at  perihelion  and  aphelion,  taking  21,000 
years  to  complete;  and  that  involved  by  the  variation  of  the 
orbit’s  eccentricity,  gone  through  in  millions  of  years. 

§ 84.  Those  terrestrial  processes  whose  dependence  on  the 
solar  heat  is  direct,  of  course  exhibit  a rhythm  that  corresponds 
to  the  periodically  changing  amount  of  heat  which  each  part 
of  the  Earth  receives.  The  simplest,  though  the  least  obtrusive, 
instance  is  supplied  by  the  magnetic  variations.  In  these  there 
is  a diurnal  increase  and  decrease,  an  annual  increase  and  de- 
crease, and  a decennial  increase  and  decrease;  the  latter  answer- 
ing to  a period  during  which  the  solar  spots  become  alternately 
abundant  and  scarce : besides  which  known  variations  there  are 
probably  others  corresponding  with  the  astronomical  cycles  just 
described.  More  obvious  examples  are  furnished  by  the  move- 
ments of  the  ocean  and  the  atmosphere.  Marine  currents  from 
the  equator  to  the  poles  above,  and  from  the  poles  to  the  equator 
beneath,  show  us  an  unceasing  backward  and  forward  motion 
throughout  this  vast  mass  of  water  — * a motion  varying  in 
amount  according  to  the  seasons,  and  compounded  with  smaller 
like  motions  of  local  origin.  The  similarly-caused  general  cur- 
rents in  the  air,  have  similar  annual  variations  similarly  modi- 
fied. Irregular  as  they  are  in  detail,  we  still  see  in  the  monsoons 
and  other  tropical  atmospheric  disturbances,  or  even  in  our  own 
equinoctial  gales  and  spring  east  winds,  a periodicity  sufficiently 
decided.  Again,  we  have  an  alternation  of  times  during  which 
evaporation  predominates  with  times  during  which  condensa- 


224 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


tion  predominates:  shown  in  the  tropics  by  strongly  marked 
rainy  seasons  and  seasons  of  drought,  and  in  the  temperate  zones 
by  corresponding  changes  of  which  the  periodicity,  though  less 
definite,  is  still  traceable.  The  diffusion  and  precipitation  of 
water,  besides  the  slow  alternations  answering  to  different  parts 
of  the  year,  furnish  us  with  examples  of  rhythm  of  a more  rapid 
kind.  During  wet  weather,  lasting,  let  us  say,  over  some  weeks, 
the  tendency  to  condense,  though  greater  than  the  tendency  to 
evaporate,  does  not  show  itself  in  continuous  rain ; but  the  period 
is  made  up  of  rainy  days  and  days  that  are  wholly  or  partially 
fair.  Nor  is  it  in  this  rude  alternation  only  that  the  law  is 
manifested.  During  any  day  throughout  this  wet  weather  a 
minor  rhythm  is  traceable ; and  especially  so  when  the  tendencies 
to  evaporate  and  to  condense  are  nearly  balanced.  Among 
mountains  this  minor  rhythm  and  its  causes  may  be  studied  to 
great  advantage.  Moist  winds,  which  do  not  precipitate  their 
contained  water  in  passing  over  the  comparatively  warm  low- 
lands, lose  so  much  heat  when  they  reach  the  cold  mountain 
peaks,  that  condensation  rapidly  takes  place.  Water,  however, 
in  passing  from  the  gaseous  to  the  fluid  state,  gives  out  a con- 
siderable amount  of  heat;  and  hence  the  resulting  clouds  are 
warmer  than  the  air  that  precipitates  them,  and  much  warmer 
than  the  high  rocky  surfaces  round  which  they  fold  themselves. 
Hence  in  the  course  of  the  storm,  these  high  rocky  surfaces  are 
raised  in  temperature,  partly  by  radiation  from  the  enwrapping 
cloud,  partly  by  contact  of  the  falling  rain-drops.  Giving  off 
more  heat  than  before,  they  no  longer  lower  so  greatly  the  tem- 
perature of  the  air  passing  over  them;  and  so  cease  to  precipi- 
tate its  contained  water.  The  clouds  break;  the  sky  begins  to 
clear;  and  a gleam  of  sunshine  promises  that  the  day  is  going  to 
be  fine.  But  the  small  supply  of  heat  which  the  cold  mountain’s 
sides  have  received,  is  soon  lost:  especially  when  the  dispersion 
of  the  clouds  permits  free  radiation  into  space.  Very  soon, 
therefore,  these  elevated  surfaces,  becoming  as  cold  as  at  first  (or 
perhaps  even  colder  in  virtue  of  the  evaporation  set  up),  begin 
again  to  condense  the  vapor  in  the  air  above;  and  there  comes 
another  storm,  followed  by  the  same  effects  as  before.  In  low- 
land regions  this  action  and  reaction  is  usually  less  conspicuous, 
because  the  contrast  of  temperatures  is  less  marked.  Even  here, 
however,  it  may  be  traced;  and  that  not  only  on  showery  days. 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


225 


but  on  days  of  continuous  rain;  for  in  these  we  do  not  see  uni- 
formity: always  there  are  fits  of  harder  and  gentler  rain  that 
are  probably  caused  as  above  explained. 

Of  course  these  meteorologic  rhythms  involve  something  cor- 
responding to  them  in  the  changes  wrought  by  wind  and  water 
on  the  Earth’s  surface.  Variations  in  the  quantities  of  sedi- 
ment brought  down  by  rivers  that  rise  and  fall  with  the  seasons, 
must  cause  variations  in  the  resulting  strata  — alternations  of 
color  or  quality  in  the  successive  lam  in*.  Beds  formed  from 
the  detritus  of  shores  worn  down  and  carried  away  by  the  waves, 
must  similarly  show  periodic  differences  answering  to  the 
periodic  winds  of  the  locality.  In  so  far  as  frost  influences  the 
rate  of  denudation,  its  recurrence  is  a factor  in  the  rhythm  of 
sedimentary  deposits.  And  the  geological  changes  produced  by 
glaciers  and  icebergs  must  similarly  have  their  alternating 
periods  of  greater  and  less  intensity. 

There  is  evidence  also  that  modifications  in  the  Earth’s  crust 
due  to  igneous  action  have  a certain  periodicity.  Volcanic  erup- 
tions are  not  continuous  but  intermittent,  and  as  far  as  the  data 
enable  us  to  judge,  have  a certain  average  rate  of  recurrence; 
which  rate  of  recurrence  is  complicated  by  rising  into  epochs 
of  greater  activity  and  falling  into  epochs  of  comparative  quies- 
cence. So  too  is  it  with  earthquakes  and  the  elevations  or  de- 
pressions caused  by  them.  At  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  the 
alternation  of  strata  gives  decisive  proof  of  successive  sinkings  of 
the  surface,  that  have  taken  place  at  tolerably  equal  intervals. 
Everywhere,  in  the  extensive  groups  of  conformable  strata  that 
imply  small  subsidences  recurring  with  a certain  average  fre- 
quency, we  see  a rhythm  in  the  action  and  reaction  between 
the  Earth’s  crust  and  its  molten  contents  — a rhythm  com- 
pounded with  those  slower  ones  shown  in  the  termination  of 
groups  of  strata,  and  the  commencement  of  other  groups  not 
conformable  to  them.  There  is  even  reason  for  suspecting  a 
geological  periodicity  that  is  immensely  slower  and  far  wider  in 
its  effects;  namely,  an  alternation  of  those  vast  upheavals  and 
submergences  by  which  continents  are  produced  where  there 
were  oceans,  and  oceans  where  there  were  continents.  For 
supposing,  as  we  may  fairly  do,  that  the  Earth’s  crust  is  through- 
out of  tolerably  equal  thickness,  it  is  manifest  that  such  por- 
tions of  it  as  become  most  depressed  below  the  average  level, 


226 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


must  have  their  inner  surfaces  most  exposed  to  the  currents  of 
molten  matter  circulating  within,  and  will  therefore  undergo  a 
larger  amount  of  what  may  be  called  igneous  denudation;  while, 
conversely,  the  withdrawal  of  the  inner  surfaces  from  these  cur- 
rents where  the  Earth’s  crust  is  most  elevated,  will  cause  a 
thickening  more  or  less  compensating  the  aqueous  denudation 
going  on  externally.  Hence  those  depressed  areas  over  which 
the  deepest  oceans  lie,  being  gradually  thinned  beneath  and  not 
covered  by  much  sedimentary  deposit  above,  will  become  areas 
of  least  resistance,  and  will  then  begin  to  yield  to  the  upward 
pressure  of  the  Earth’s  contents ; whence  will  result,  throughout 
such  areas,  long  continued  elevations,  ceasing  only  when  the 
reverse  state  of  things  has  been  brought  about.  Whether  this 
speculation  be  well  or  ill  founded,  does  not  however  affect 
the  general  conclusion.  Apart  from  it  we  have  sufficient  evi- 
dence that  geologic  processes  are  rhythmical. 

§ 85.  Perhaps  nowhere  are  the  illustrations  of  rhythm  so 
numerous  and  so  manifest  as  among  the  phenomena  of  life. 
Plants  do  not,  indeed,  usually  show  us  any  decided  periodicities, 
save  those  determined  by  day  and  night  and  by  the  seasons.  But 
in  animals  we  have  a great  variety  of  movements  in  which  the 
alternation  of  opposite  extremes  goes  on  with  all  degrees  of 
rapidity.  The  swallowing  of  food  is  effected  by  a wave  of 
constriction  passing  along  the  oesophagus;  its  digestion  is  ac- 
companied by  a muscular  action  of  the  stomach  that  is  also  un- 
dulatory;  and  the  peristaltic  motion  of  the  intestines  is  of  like 
nature.  The  blood  obtained  from  this  food  is  propelled  not  in 
a uniform  current  but  in  pulses ; and  it  is  aerated  by  lungs  that 
alternately  contract  and  expand.  All  locomotion  results  from 
oscillating  movements:  even  where  it  is  apparently  continuous, 
as  in  many  minute  forms,  the  microscope  proves  the  vibration  of 
cilia  to  be  the  agency  by  which  the  creature  is  moved  smoothly 
forward. 

Primary  rhythms  of  the  organic  actions  are  compounded  with 
secondary  ones  of  longer  duration.  These  various  modes  of 
activity  have  their  recurring  periods  of  increase  and  decrease. 
We  see  this  in  the  periodic  need  for  food,  and  in  the  periodic 
need  for  repose.  Each  meal  induces  a more  rapid  rhythmic  ac- 
tion of  the  digestive  organs;  the  pulsation  of  the  heart  is  ac- 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


227 


celerated;  and  the  inspirations  become  more  frequent.  During 
sleep,  on  the  contrary,  these  several  movements  slacken.  So 
that  in  the  course  of  the  twenty-four  hours,  those  small  un- 
dulations of  which  the  different  kinds  of  organic  action  are  con- 
stituted, undergo  one  long  wave  of  increase  and  decrease,  compli- 
cated with  several  minor  waves.  Experiments  have  shown  that 
there  are  still  slower  rises  and  falls  of  functional  activity. 
Waste  and  assimilation  are  not  balanced  by  every  meal,  but  one 
or  other  maintains  for  some  time  a slight  excess;  so  that  a per- 
son in  ordinary  health  is  found  to  undergo  an  increase  and 
decrease  of  weight  during  recurring  intervals  of  tolerable  equal- 
ity. Besides  these  regular  periods  there  are  still  longer  and 
comparatively  irregular  ones;  namely,  those  alternations  of 
greater  and  less  vigor,  which  even  healthy  people  experience. 
So  inevitable  are  these  oscillations  that  even  men  in  training 
cannot  be  kept  stationary  at  their  highest  power,  but  when  they 
have  reached  it  begin  to  retrograde.  Further  evidence  of  rhythm 
in  the  vital  movements  is  furnished  by  invalids.  Sundry  disor- 
ders are  named  from  the  intermittent  character  of  their  symp- 
toms. Even  where  the  periodicity  is  not  very  marked,  it  is 
mostly  traceable.  Patients  rarely  if  ever  get  uniformly  worse; 
and  convalescents  have  usually  their  days  of  partial  relapse  or 
of  less  decided  advance. 

Aggregates  of  living  creatures  illustrate  the  general  truth  in 
other  ways.  If  each  species  of  organism  be  regarded  as  a whole, 
it  displays  two  kinds  of  rhythm.  Life  as  it  exists  in  all  the 
members  of  such  species,  is  an  extremely  complex  kind  of  move- 
ment, more  or  less  distinct  from  the  kinds  of  movement  which 
constitute  life  in  other  species.  In  each  individual  of  the 
species,  this  extremely  complex  kind  of  movement  begins,  rises 
to  its  climax,  declines,  and  ceases  in  death.  And  every  succes- 
sive generation  thus  exhibits  a wave  of  that  peculiar  activity 
characterizing  the  species  as  a whole.  The  other  form  of  rhythm 
is  to  be  traced  in  that  variation  of  number  which  each  tribe  of 
animals  and  plants  is  ever  undergoing.  Throughout  the  unceas- 
ing conflict  between  the  tendency  of  a species  to  increase  and  the 
antagonistic  tendencies,  there  is  never  an  equilibrium:  one  al- 
ways predominates.  In  the  case  even  of  a cultivated  plant  or 
domesticated  animal,  where  artificial  means  are  used  to  main- 
tain the  supply  at  a uniform  level,  we  still  see  that  oscillations 


22S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


of  abundance  and  scarcity  cannot  be  avoided.  And  among  the 
creatures  uncared  for  by  man,  such  oscillations  are  usually 
more  marked.  After  a race  of  organisms  has  been  greatly 
thinned  by  enemies  or  lack  of  food,  its  surviving  members  be- 
come more  favorably  circumstanced  than  usual.  During  the  de- 
cline in  their  numbers  their  food  has  grown  relatively  more 
abundant;  while  their  enemies  have  diminished  from  want  of 
prey.  The  conditions  thus  remain  for  some  time  favorable  to 
their  increase;  and  they  multiply  rapidly.  By  and  by  their  food 
is  rendered  relatively  scarce,  at  the  same  time  that  their  enemies 
have  become  more  numerous;  and  the  destroying  influences  be- 
ing thus  in  excess,  their  number  begins  to  diminish  again.  Yet 
one  more  rhythm,  extremely  slow  in  its  action,  may  be  traced  in 
the  phenomena  of  Life,  contemplated  under  their  most  general 
aspect.  The  researches  of  paleontologists  show  that  there  have 
been  going  on,  during  the  vast  period  of  which  our  sedimentary 
rocks  bear  record,  successive  changes  of  organic  forms.  Species 
have  appeared,  become  abundant,  and  then  disappeared.  Genera, 
at  first  constituted  of  but  few  species,  have  for  a time  gone  on 
growing  more  multiform ; and  then  have  begun  to  decline  in  the 
number  of  their  subdivisions ; leaving  at  last  but  one  or  two  rep- 
resentatives, or  none  at  all.  During  longer  epochs  whole  orders 
have  thus  arisen,  culminated,  and  dwindled  away.  And  even 
those  wider  divisions  containing  many  orders  have  similarly  un- 
dergone a gradual  rise,  a high  tide,  and  a long-continued  ebb. 
The  stalked  Crinoidea , for  example,  which,  during  the  carbon- 
iferous epoch,  became  abundant,  have  almost  disappeared;  only 
a single  species  being  extant.  Once  a large  family  of  mollusks, 
the  Brachiopoda  have  now  become  rare.  The  shelled  Cephalo- 
pods,  at  one  time  dominant  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  ocean, 
both  in  number  of  forms  and  of  individuals,  are  in  our  day 
nearly  extinct.  And  after  an  “ age  of  reptiles,”  there  has  come 
an  age  in  which  reptiles  have  been  in  great  measure  supplanted 
by  mammals.  Whether  these  vast  rises  and  falls  of  different 
kinds  of  life  ever  undergo  anything  approaching  to  repetitions 
(which  they  may  possibly  do  in  correspondence  with  those  vast 
cycles  of  elevation  and  subsidence  that  produce  continents  and 
oceans),  it  is  sufficiently  clear  that  Life  on  the  Barth  has  not 
progressed  uniformly,  but  in  immense  undulations. 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


229 


§ 86.  It  is  not  manifest  that  the  changes  of  consciousness 
are  in  any  sense  rhythmical.  Yet  here,  too,  analysis  proves  both 
that  the  mental  state  existing  at  any  moment  is  not  uniform, 
but  is  decomposable  into  rapid  oscillations ; and  also  that  mental 
states  pass  through  longer  intervals  of  increasing  and  decreasing 
intensity. 

Though  while  attending  to  any  single  sensation,  or  any  group 
of  related  sensations  constituting  the  consciousness  of  an  object, 
we  seem  to  remain  for  the  time  in  a persistent  and  homogeneous 
condition  of  mind,  a careful  self-examination  shows  that  this 
apparently  unbroken  mental  state  is  in  truth  traversed  by  a 
number  of  minor  states,  in  which  various  other  sensations  and 
perceptions  are  rapidly  presented  and  disappear.  From  the  ad- 
mitted fact  that  thinking  consists  in  the  establishment  of  re- 
lations, it  is  a necessary  corollary  that  the  maintenance  of  con- 
sciousness in  any  one  state  to  the  entire  exclusion  of  other  states, 
would  be  a cessation  of  thought,  that  is,  of  consciousness.  So 
that  an}^  seemingly  continuous  feeling,  say  of  pressure,  really 
consists  of  portions  of  that  feeling  perpetually  recurring  after 
the  momentary  intrusion  of  other  feelings  and  ideas  — quick 
thoughts  concerning  the  place  where  it  is  felt,  the  external  object 
producing  it,  its  consequences,  and  other  things  suggested  by  as- 
sociation. Thus  there  is  going  on  an  extremely  rapid  depar- 
ture from,  and  return  to,  that  particular  mental  state  which 
we  regard  as  persistent.  Besides  the  evidence  of  rhythm  in  con- 
sciousness which  direct  analysis  thus  affords,  we  may  gather  fur- 
ther evidence  from  the  correlation  between  feeling  and  move- 
ment. Sensations  and  emotions  expend  themselves  in  producing 
muscular  contractions.  If  a sensation  or  emotion  were  strictly 
continuous,  there  would  be  a continuous  discharge  along  those 
motor  nerves  acted  upon.  But  so  far  as  experiments  with  arti- 
ficial stimuli  enable  us  to  judge,  a continuous  discharge  along 
the  nerve  leading  to  a muscle  does  not  contract  it:  a broken 
discharge  is  required  — a rapid  succession  of  shocks.  ITence  mus- 
cular contraction  presupposes  that  rhythmic  state  of  conscious- 
ness which  direct  observation  discloses.  A much  more  con- 
spicuous rhythm,  having  longer  waves,  is  seen  during  the  outflow 
of  emotion  into  dancing,  poetry,  and  music.  The  current  of 
mental  energy  that  shows  itself  in  these  modes  of  bodily  action, 
is  not  continuous,  but  falls  into  a succession  of  pulses.  The 


230 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


measure  of  a dance  is  produced  by  the  alternation  of  strong  mus- 
cular contractions  with  weaker  ones;  and,  save  in  measures  of 
the  simplest  order  such  as  are  found  among  barbarians  and  chil- 
dren, this  alternation  is  compounded  with  longer  rises  and  falls 
in  the  degree  of  muscular  excitement.  Poetry  is  a form  of 
speech  which  results  when  the  emphasis  is  regularly  recurrent; 
that  is,  when  the  muscular  effort  of  pronunciation  has  definite 
periods  of  greater  and  less  intensity  ■ — periods  that  are  compli- 
cated with  others  of  like  nature  answering  to  the  successive 
verses.  Music,  in  still  more  various  ways,  exemplifies  the  law. 
There  are  the  recurring  bars,  in  each  of  which  there  is  a primary 
and  a secondary  beat.  There  is  the  alternate  increase  and  de- 
crease of  muscular  strain,  implied  by  the  ascents  and  descents  to 
the  higher  and  lower  notes  — ascents  and  descents  composed  of 
smaller  waves,  breaking  the  rises  and  falls  of  the  larger  ones,  in 
a mode  peculiar  to  each  melody.  And  then  we  have,  further,  the 
alternation  of  piano  and  forte  passages.  That  these  several 
kinds  of  rhythm,  characterizing  aesthetic  expression,  are  not,  in 
the  common  sense  of  the  word,  artificial,  but  are  intenser  forms 
of  an  undulatory  movement  habitually  generated  by  feeling  in  its 
bodily  discharge,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  they  are  all  traceable 
in  ordinary  speech ; which  in  every  sentence  has  its  primary  and 
secondary  emphasis,  and  its  cadence  containing  a chief  rise  and 
fall  complicated  with  subordinate  rises  and  falls;  and  which  is 
accompanied  by  a more  or  less  oscillatory  action  of  the  limbs 
when  the  emotion  is  great.  Still  longer  undulations  may  be  ob- 
served by  every  one,  in  himself  and  in  others,  on  occasions  of 
extreme  pleasure  or  extreme  pain.  Note,  in  the  first  place,  that 
pain  having  its  origin  in  bodily  disorder,  is  nearly  always  per- 
ceptibly rhythmical.  During  hours  in  which  it  never  actually 
ceases,  it  has  its  variations  of  intensity  — fits  or  paroxysms ; and 
then  after  these  hours  of  suffering  there  usually  come  hours  of 
comparative  ease.  Moral  pain  has  the  like  smaller  and  larger 
waves.  One  possessed  by  intense  grief  does  not  utter  continuous 
moans,  or  shed  tears  with  an  equable  rapidity;  but  these  signs  of 
passion  come  in  recurring  bursts.  Then  after  a time,  during 
which  such  stronger  and  weaker  waves  of  emotion  alternate, 
there  comes  a calm  — a time  of  comparative  deadness ; to  which 
again  succeeds  another  interval,  when  dull  sorrow  rises  afresh 
into  acute  anguish,  with  its  series  of  paroxysms.  Similarly  in 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


231 


great  delight,  especially  as  manifested  by  children  who  have  its 
display  less  under  control,  there  are  visible  variations  in  the 
intensity  of  feeling  shown  — fits  of  laughter  and  dancing  about, 
separated  by  pauses  in  which  smiles,  and  other  slight  manifesta- 
tions of  pleasure,  suffice  to  discharge  the  lessened  excitement. 
Nor  are  there  wanting  evidences  of  mental  undulations  greater 
in  length  than  any  of  these  — undulations  which  take  weeks,  or 
months,  or  years,  to  complete  themselves.  We  continually  hear 
of  moods  which  recur  at  intervals.  Very  many  persons  have 
their  epochs  of  vivacity  and  depression.  There  are  periods  of 
industry  following  periods  of  idleness;  and  times  at  which  par- 
ticular subjects  or  tastes  are  cultivated  with  zeal,  alternating 
with  times  at  which  they  are  neglected.  Respecting  which  slow 
oscillations,  the  only  qualification  to  be  made  is,  that  being 
affected  by  numerous  influences,  they  are  comparatively  irreg- 
ular. 

§ 87.  In  nomadic  societies  the  changes  of  place,  determined 
as  they  usually  are  by  exhaustion  or  failure  of  the  supply  of 
food,  are  periodic;  and  in  many  cases  show  a recurrence  an- 
swering to  the  seasons.  Each  tribe  that  has  become  in  some 
degree  fixed  in  its  locality,  goes  on  increasing,  till,  under  the 
pressures  of  unsatisfied  desires,  there  results  migration  of 
some  part  of  it  to  a new  region  — a process  repeated  at  inter- 
vals. From  such  excesses  of  population,  and  such  successive 
waves  of  migration,  come  conflicts  with  other  tribes;  which 
are  also  increasing  and  tending  to  diffuse  themselves.  This 
antagonism,  like  all  others,  results  not  in  a uniform  motion, 
but  in  an  intermittent  one.  War,  exhaustion,  recoil  — peace, 
prosperity,  and  renewed  aggression : — see  here  the  alternation 
more  or  less  discernible  in  the  military  activities  of  both  savage 
and  civilized  nations.  And  irregular  as  is  this  rhythm,  it 
is  not  more  so  than  the  different  sizes  of  the  societies,  and  the 
extremely  involved  causes  of  variation  in  their  strengths,  would 
lead  us  to  anticipate. 

Passing  from  external  to  internal  changes,  we  meet  with 
this  backward  and  forward  movement  under  many  forms.  In 
the  currents  of  commerce  it  is  especially  conspicuous.  Ex- 
change during  early  times  is  almost  wholly  carried  on  at  fairs, 
held  at  long  intervals  in  the  chief  centres  of  population.  The 


232 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


flux  and  reflux  of  people  and  commodities  which  each  of  these 
exhibits,  becomes  more  frequent  as  national  development  leads 
to  greater  social  activity.  The  more  rapid  rhythm  of  weekly 
markets  begins  to  supersede  the  slow  rhythm  of  fairs. 
And  eventually  the  process  of  exchange  becomes  at  certain 
places  so  active,  as  to  bring  about  daily  meetings  of  buyers 
and  sellers  — a daily  wave  of  accumulation  and  distribution 
of  cotton,  or  corn,  or  capital.  If  from  exchange  we  turn  to 
production  and  consumption,  we  see  undulations,  much  longer 
indeed  in  their  periods,  but  almost  equally  obvious.  Supply 
and  demand  are  never  completely  adapted  to  each  other;  but 
each  of  them,  from  time  to  time  in  excess,  leads  presently  to  an 
excess  of  the  other.  Farmers  who  have  one  season  produced 
wheat  very  abundantly,  are  disgusted  with  the  consequent  low 
price ; and  next  season,  sowing  a much  smaller  quantity,  bring  to 
market  a deficient  crop ; whence  follows  a converse  effect. 
Consumption  undergoes  parallel  undulations  that  need  not  be 
specified.  The  balancing  of  supplies  between  different  dis- 
tricts, too,  entails  analogous  oscillations.  A place  at  which 
some  necessary  of  life  is  scarce,  becomes  a place  to  which  cur- 
rents of  it  are  set  up  from  other  places  where  it  is  relatively 
abundant;  and  these  currents  from  all  sides  lead  to  a wave 
of  accumulation  where  they  meet  — - a glut : whence  follows  a 
recoil  — a partial  return  of  the  currents.  But  the  undulatory 
character  of  these  actions  is  perhaps  best  seen  in  the  rises 
and  falls  of  prices.  These,  given  in  numerical  measures  which 
may  be  tabulated  and  reduced  to  diagrams,  show  us  in  the 
clearest  manner  how  commercial  movements  are  compounded  of 
oscillations  of  various  magnitudes.  The  price  of  consols  or  the 
price  of  wheat,  as  thus  represented,  is  seen  to  undergo  vast 
ascents  and  descents  whose  highest  and  lowest  points  are  reached 
only  in  the  course  of  years.  These  largest  waves  of  variation 
are  broken  by  others  extending  over  periods  of  perhaps  many 
months.  On  these  again  come  others  having  a week  or  two’s 
duration.  And  were  the  changes  marked  in  greater  detail,  we 
should  have  the  smaller  undulations  that  take  place  each  day,  and 
the  still  smaller  ones  which  brokers  telegraph  from  hour  to  hour. 
The  whole  outline  would  show  a complication  like  that  of  a vast 
ocean-swell,  on  whose  surface  there  rise  large  billows,  which 
themselves  bear  waves  of  moderate  size,  covered  by  wavelets. 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


233 


that  are  roughened  by  a minute  ripple.  Similar  diagram- 
matic representations  of  births,  marriages,  and  deaths,  of  dis- 
ease, of  crime,  of  pauperism,  exhibit  involved  conflicts  of  rhyth- 
mical motions  throughout  society  under  these  several  aspects. 

There  are  like  characteristics  in  social  changes  of  a more 
complex  kind.  Both  in  England  and  among  Continental  na- 
tions, the  action  and  reaction  of  political  progress  have  come 
to  be  generally  recognized.  Religion,  besides  its  occasional  re- 
vivals of  smaller  magnitude,  has  its  long  periods  of  exaltation 
and  depression  — generations  of  belief  and  self -mortification, 
following  generations  of  indifference  and  laxity.  There  are 
poetical  epochs,  and  epochs  in  which  the  sense  of  the  beautiful 
seems  almost  dormant.  Philosophy,  after  having  been  a while 
predominant,  lapses  for  a long  season  into  neglect;  and  then 
again  slowly  revives.  Each  science  has  its  eras  of  deductive 
reasoning,  and  its  eras  when  attention  is  chiefly  directed  to 
collecting  and  colligating  facts.  And  how  in  such  minor  but 
more  obtrusive  phenomena  as  those  of  fashion,  there  are  ever 
going  on  oscillations  from  one  extreme  to  the  other,  is  a trite 
observation. 

As  may  be  foreseen,  social  rhythms  well  illustrate  the  irreg- 
ularity that  results  from  combination  of  many  causes.  Where 
the  variations  are  those  of  one  simple  element  in  national  life, 
as  the  supply  of  a particular  commodity,  we  do  indeed  witness 
a return,  after  many  involved  movements,  to  a previous  condi- 
tion — the  price  may  become  what  it  was  before : implying  a 
like  relative  abundance.  But  where  the  action  is  one  into  which 
many  factors  enter,  there  is  never  a recurrence  of  exactly  the 
same  state.  A political  reaction  never  brings  round  just  the 
old  form  of  things.  The  rationalism  of  the  present  day  differs 
widely  from  the  rationalism  of  the  last  century.  And  though 
fashion  from  time  to  time  revives  extinct  types  of  dress,  these 
always  reappear  with  decided  modifications. 

§ 88.  The  universality  of  this  principle  suggests  a question 
like  that  raised  in  foregoing  cases.  Rhythm  being  manifested 
in  all  forms  of  movement,  we  have  reason  to  suspect  that  it  is 
determined  by  some  primordial  condition  to  action  in  general. 
The  tacit  implication  is  that  it  is  deducible  from  the  persistence 
of  force.  This  we  shall  find  to  be  the  fact, 


234 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


When  the  prong  of  a tuning-fork  is  pulled  on  one  side  by 
the  finger,  a certain  extra  tension  is  produced  among  its  co- 
hering particles;  which  resist  any  force  that  draws  them  out 
of  their  state  of  equilibrium.  As  much  force  as  the  finger 
exerts  in  pulling  the  prong  aside,  so  much  opposing  force  is 
brought  into  play  among  the  cohering  particles.  Hence,  when 
the  prong  is  liberated,  it  is  urged  back  by  a force  equal  to 
that  used  in  deflecting  it.  When,  therefore,  the  prong  reaches 
its  original  position,  the  force  impressed  on  it  during  its 
recoil,  has  generated  in  it  a corresponding  amount  of  momen- 
tum — an  amount  of  momentum  nearly  equivalent,  that  is,  to 
the  force  originally  impressed  (nearly,  we  must  say,  because 
a certain  portion  has  gone  in  communicating  motion  to  the  air, 
and  a certain  other  portion  has  been  transformed  into  heat). 
This  momentum  carries  the  prong  beyond  the  position  of  rest, 
nearly  as  far  as  it  was  originally  drawn  in  the  reverse  direc- 
tion; until  at  length,  being  gradually  used  up  in  producing 
an  opposing  tension  among  the  particles,  it  is  all  lost.  The 
opposing  tension  into  which  the  expended  momentum  has  been 
transformed,  then  generates  a second  recoil;  and  so  on  con- 
tinually — the  vibration  eventually  ceasing  only  because  at 
each  movement  a certain  amount  of  force  goes  in  creating  at- 
mospheric and  ethereal  undulations.  Now  it  needs  but  to  con- 
template this  repeated  action  and  reaction,  to  see  that  it  is, 
like  every  action  and  reaction,  a consequence  of  the  persistence 
of  force.  The  force  exerted  by  the  finger  in  bending  the  prong 
cannot  disappear.  Under  what  form  then  does  it  exist?  It 
exists  under  the  form  of  that  cohesive  tension  which  it  has 
generated  among  the  particles.  This  cohesive  tension  cannot 
cease  without  an  equivalent  result.  What  is  its  equivalent 
result?  The  momentum  generated  in  the  prong  while  being 
carried  back  to  its  position  of  rest.  This  momentum  too  — 
what  becomes  of  it?  It  must  either  continue  as  momentum,  or 
produce  some  correlative  force  of  equal  amount.  It  cannot  con- 
tinue as  momentum,  since  change  of  place  is  resisted  by  the 
cohesion  of  the  parts ; and  thus  it  gradually  disappears  by  being 
transformed  into  tension  among  these  parts.  This  is  retrans- 
formed into  the  equivalent  momentum ; and  so  on  continuously. 
If  instead  of  motion  that  is  directly  antagonized  by  the  cohesion 
of  matter,  we  consider  motion  through  space,  the  same  truth 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  MOTION 


235 


presents  itself  under  another  form.  Though  here  no  opposing 
force  seems  at  work,  and  therefore  no  cause  of  rhythm  is  ap- 
parent, yet  its  own  accumulated  momentum  must  eventually 
carry  the  moving  body  beyond  the  body  attracting  it;  and 
so  must  become  a force  at  variance  with  that  which  generated 
it.  From  this  conflict,  rhythm  necessarily  results  as  in  the 
foregoing  case.  The  force  embodied  as  momentum  in  a given 
direction,  cannot  be  destroyed;  and  if  it  eventually  disappears, 
it  reappears  in  the  reaction  on  the  retarding  body;  which 
begins  afresh  to  draw  the  now  arrested  mass  back  from  its 
aphelion.  The  only  conditions  under  which  there  could  be 
absence  of  rhythm  — the  only  conditions,  that  is,  under  which 
there  could  be  a continuous  motion  through  space  in  the  same 
straight  line  forever,  would  be  the  existence  of  an  infinity  void 
of  everything  but  the  moving  body.  And  neither  of  these  con- 
ditions can  be  represented  in  thought.  Infinity  is  inconceiv- 
able ; and  so  also  is  a motion  which  never  had  a commencement 
in  some  pre-existing  source  of  power. 

Thus,  then,  rhythm  is  a necessary  characteristic  of  all  mo- 
tion. Given  the  co-existence  everywhere  of  antagonist  forces  — 
a postulate  which,  as  we  have  seen,  is  necessitated  by  the 
form  of  our  experience  — and  rhythm  is  an  inevitable  corollary 
from  the  persistence  of  force. 

[Note. — ■ In  the  “ Edinburgh  Review  ” Lord  Grimthorpe  made  much 
of  the  exception  furnished  by  non-periodic  comets  to  the  law  above  set 
forth.  I was  about  to  admit  this  exception  when,  on  looking  into  the 
matter,  I found  no  need  for  doing  so.  Though  five  or  six  cometary  orbits 
are  said  to  be  hyperbolic,  yet,  as  I learn  from  one  who  has  paid  special 
attention  to  comets  (having  tabulated  the  directions  of  their  aphelia),  “ no 
such  orbit  has,  I believe,  been  computed  for  a well-observed  comet.” 
Hence  the  probability  that  all  the  orbits  are  ellipses  is  overwhelming.  El- 
lipses and  hyperbolas  have  countless  varieties  of  forms,  but  there  is  only 
one  form  of  parabola ; or,  to  speak  literally,  all  parabolas  are  similar, 
while  there  are  infinitely  numerous  dissimilar  ellipses  and  dissimilar 
hyperbolas.  Consequently,  anything  coming  to  the  Sun  from  a great 
distance  must  have  one  exact  amount  of  proper  motion  to  produce  a 
parabola ; all  other  amounts  would  give  hyperbolas  or  ellipses.  And  if 
there  are  no  hyperbolic  orbits,  then  it  is  infinity  to  one  that  all  the  orbits 
are  elliptical.] 


236 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

RECAPITULATION,  CRITICISM,  AND  RECOMMENCEMENT. 

§ 89.  Let  ns  pause  a while  to  consider  how  far  the  con- 
tents of  the  foregoing  chapters  go  toward  forming  a body  of 
knowledge  such  as  was  defined  at  the  outset  as  constituting 
Philosophy. 

In  respect  of  its  generality,  the  proposition  enunciated  and 
exemplified  in  each  chapter,  is  of  the  required  kind  — is  a 
proposition  transcending  those  class-limits  which  Science,  as 
currently  understood,  recognizes.  “ The  Indestructibility  of 
Matter  ” is  a truth  not  belonging  to  mechanics  more  than 
to  chemistry,  a truth  assumed  alike  by  molecular  physics  and 
the  physics  that  deals  with  sensible  masses,  a truth  which 
the  astronomer  and  the  biologist  equally  take  for  granted.  Hot 
merely  do  those  divisions  of  Science  which  deal  with  the  move- 
ments of  celestial  and  terrestrial  bodies  postulate  “ The  Con- 
tinuity of  Motion,”  but  it  is  no  less  postulated  in  the  physicist’s 
investigations  into  the  phenomena  of  light  and  heat,  and  is 
tacitly,  if  not  avowedly,  implied  in  the  generalizations  of  the 
higher  sciences.  So,  too,  “ The  Persistence  of  Force,”  involved 
in  each  of  the  preceding  propositions,  is  co-extensive  with  them, 
as  is  also  its  corollary,  “ The  Persistence  of  Eelations  among 
Forces.”  These  are  not  truths  of  a high  generality,  but  they  are 
universal  truths.  Passing  to  the  deductions  drawn  from  them, 
we  see  the  same  thing.  That  force  is  transformable,  and  that 
between  its  correlates  there  exist  quantitative  equivalences,  are 
ultimate  facts  not  to  be  classed  with  those  of  mechanics,  or 
thermology,  or  electricity,  or  magnetism;  but  they  are  illus- 
trated throughout  phenomena  of  every  order,  up  to  those  of 
mind  and  society.  Similarly,  the  law  that  motion  follows  the 
line  of  least  resistance  or  the  line  of  greatest  traction  or  the 
resultant  of  the  two,  we  found  to  he  an  all-pervading  law; 
conformed  to  alike  by  each  planet  in  its  orbit,  and  by  the 


RECAPITULATION,  CRITICISM,  AND  RECOMMENCEMENT  237 


moving  matters,  aerial,  liquid,  and  solid,  on  its  surface  — con- 
formed to  no  less  by  every  organic  movement  and  process  than 
by  every  inorganic  movement  and  process.  And  so  likewise, 
in  the  chapter  just  closed,  it  has  been  shown  that  rhythm 
is  exhibited  universally,  from  the  slow  gyrations  of  double 
stars  down  to  the  inconceivably  rapid  oscillations  of  molecules 
- — - from  such  terrestrial  changes  as  those  of  recurrent  glacial 
epochs  and  gradually  alternating  elevations  and  subsidences, 
down  to  those  of  the  winds  and  tides  and  waves ; and  is  no  less 
conspicuous  in  the  functions  of  living  organisms,  from  the  pul- 
sations of  the  heart  up  to  the  paroxysms  of  the  emotions. 

Thus  these  truths  have  the  character  which  constitutes  them 
parts  of  Philosophy,  properly  so  called.  They  are  truths  which 
unify  concrete  phenomena  belonging  to  all  divisions  of  Nature; 
and  so  must  be  components  of  that  complete,  coherent  con- 
ception of  things  which  Philosophy  seeks. 

§ 90.  But  now  what  parts  do  these  truths  play  in  forming 
such  a conception  ? Does  any  one  of  them  singly  convey  an 
idea  of  the  Cosmos : meaning  by  this  word  the  totality  of  the 
manifestations  of  the  Unknowable?  Do  all  of  them  taken  to- 
gether yield  us  an  adequate  idea  of  this  kind?  Do  they  even 
when  thought  of  in  combination  compose  anything  like  such 
an  idea?  To  each  of  these  questions  the  answer  must  be  — No. 

Neither  these  truths  nor  any  other  such  truths,  separately 
or  jointly,  constitute  that  integrated  knowledge  in  which  only 
Philosophy  finds  its  goal.  It  has  been  supposed  by  one  thinker 
that  when  Science  has  succeeded  in  reducing  all  more  complex 
laws  to  some  most  simple  law,  as  of  molecular  action,  knowledge 
will  have  reached  its  limit.  Another  authority  has  tacitly  as- 
serted that  all  minor  facts  are  so  merged  in  the  major  fact  that 
the  force  everywhere  in  action  is  nowhere  lost,  that  to  express 
this  is  to  express  “ the  constitution  of  the  universe.”  But  either 
conclusion  implies  a misapprehension  of  the  problem. 

For  these  are  all  analytical  truths,  and  no  analytical  truth  — 
no  number  of  analytical  truths  — will  make  up  that  synthesis 
of  thought  which  alone  can  be. an  interpretation  of  the  synthesis 
of  things.  The  decomposition  of  phenomena  into  their  ele- 
ments, is  but  a preparation  for  understanding  phenomena  in 
their  state  of  composition,  as  actually  manifested.  To  have 


238 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ascertained  the  laws  of  the  factors  is  not  at  all  to  have  ascer- 
tained the  laws  of  their  co-operation.  The  question  is,  not 
how  any  factor.  Matter  or  Motion  or  Force,  behaves  by  itself, 
or  under  some  imagined  simple  conditions;  nor  is  it  even  how 
one  factor  behaves  under  the  complicated  conditions  of  actual 
existence.  The  thing  to  be  expressed  is  the  joint  product  of 
the  factors  under  all  its  various  aspects.  Only  when  we  can 
formulate  the  total  process,  have  we  gained  that  knowledge  of 
it  which  Philosophy  aspires  to.  A clear  comprehension  of  this 
matter  is  important  enough  to  justify  some  further  exposition. 

§ 91.  Suppose  a chemist,  a geologist,  and  a biologist,  have 
given  the  deepest  explanations  furnished  by  their  respective 
sciences,  of  the  processes  going  on  in  a burning  candle,  in  a 
region  changed  by  earthquake,  and  in  a growing  plant.  To 
the  assertion  that  their  explanations  are  not  the  deepest  possible, 
they  will  probably  rejoin  — “What  would  you  have?  What 
remains  to  be  said  of  combustion  when  light  and  heat  and 
the  dissipation  of  substance  have  all  been  traced  down  to  the 
liberation  of  molecular  motion  as  their  common  cause?  When 
all  the  actions  accompanying  an  earthquake  are  explained  as 
consequent  upon  the  slow  loss  of  the  Earth’s  internal  heat,  how 
is  it  possible  to  go  lower?  When  the  influence  of  light  on  the 
oscillations  of  molecules  has  been  proved  to  account  for  vegetal 
growth,  what  is  the  imaginable  further  rationale?  You  ask 
for  a synthesis.  You  say  that  knowledge  does  not  end  in  the 
resolution  of  phenomena  into  the  actions  of  certain  factors,  each 
conforming  to  ascertained  laws ; but  that  the  laws  of  the  factors 
having  been  ascertained,  there  comes  the  chief  problem  — to 
show  how  from  their  joint  action  result  the  phenomena  in  all 
their  complexity.  Well,  do  not  the  above  interpretations  satisfy 
this  requirement?  Do  we  not,  starting  with  the  molecular 
motions  of  the  elements  concerned  in  combustion,  build  up  syn- 
thetically an  explanation  of  the  light,  and  the  heat,  and  the 
produced  gases,  and  the  movements  of  the  produced  gases?  Do 
we  not,  setting  out  from  the  still-continued  radiation  of  its  heat, 
construct  by  synthesis  a clear  conception  of  the  Earth’s  nucleus 
as  contracting,  its  crust  as  collapsing,  as  becoming  shaken  and 
fissured  and  contorted  and  burst  through  by  lava?  And  is  it 


recapitulation,  criticism,  AND  RECOMMENCEMENT  239 

not  the  same  with  the  chemical  changes  and  accumulation  of 
matter  in  the  growing  plant?7’ 

To  all  which  the  reply  is,  that  the  ultimate  interpretation 
to  be  reached  by  Philosophy,  is  a universal  synthesis  com- 
prehending and  consolidating  such  special  syntheses.  The  syn- 
thetic explanations  which  Science  gives,  even  up  to  the  most 
general,  are  more  or  less  independent  of  one  another.  Though 
they  may  have  like  elements  in  them,  they  are  not  united  by 
the  likeness  of  their  essential  structures.  Is  it  to  be  supposed 
that  in  the  burning  candle,  in  the  quaking  Earth,  and  in 
the  organism  that  is  increasing,  the  processes  as  wholes  are 
unrelated  to  one  another?  If  it  is  admitted  that  each  of  the 
factors  concerned  always  operates  in  conformity  to  a law,  is  it 
to  be  concluded  that  their  co-operation  conforms  to  no  law? 
These  various  changes,  artificial  and  natural,  organic  and  in- 
organic, which  for  convenience  sake  we  distinguish,  are  not 
from  the  highest  point  of  view  to  be  distinguished;  for  they 
are  all  changes  going  on  in  the  same  Cosmos,  and  forming  parts 
of  one  vast  transformation.  The  play  of  forces  is  essentially 
the  same  in  principle  throughout  the  whole  region  explored  by 
our  intelligence ; and  though,  varying  infinitely  in  their  propor- 
tions and  combinations,  they  work  out  results  everywhere  more 
or  less  different,  and  often  seeming  to  have  no  kinship,  yet 
there  cannot  but  be  among  these  results  a fundamental  com- 
munity. The  question  to  be  answered  is- — -What  is  the  com- 
mon element  in  the  histories  of  all  concrete  processes? 

§ 92.  To  resume,  then,  we  have  now  to  seek  a law  of  com- 
position of  phenomena,  co-extensive  with  those  laws  of  their 
components  set  forth  in  the  foregoing  chapters.  Having  seen 
that  matter  is  indestructible,  motion  continuous,  and  force 
persistent  — having  seen  that  forces  are  everywhere  undergoing 
transformation,  and  that  motion,  always  following  the  line  of 
least  resistance,  is  invariably  rhythmic,  it  remains  to  discover 
the  similarly-invariable  formula  expressing  the  combined  con- 
sequences of  the  actions  thus  separately  formulated. 

What  must  be  the  general  character  of  such  a formula?  It 
must  be  one  that  specifies  the  course  of  the  changes  undergone 
by  both  the  matter  and  the  motion.  Every  transformation  im- 
plies rearrangement  of  component  parts;  and  a definition  of  it, 


240 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


while  saying  what  has  happened  to  the  sensible  or  insensible 
portions  of  substance  concerned,  must  also  say  what  has  hap- 
pened to  the  movements,  sensible  or  insensible,  which  the  re- 
arrangement of  parts  implies.  Further,  unless  the  transforma- 
tion always  goes  on  in  the  same  way  and  at  the  same  rate,  the 
formula  must  specify  the  conditions  under  which  it  commences, 
ceases,  and  is  reversed. 

The  law  we  seek,  therefore,  must  be  the  law  of  the  continuous 
redistribution  of  matter  and  motion.  Absolute  rest  and  perma- 
nence do  not  exist.  Every  object,  no  less  than  the  aggregate 
of  all  objects,  undergoes  from  instant  to  instant  some  alteration 
of  state.  Gradually,  or  quickly  it  is  receiving  motion  or  losing 
motion,  while  some  or  all  of  its  parts  are  simultaneously  chang- 
ing their  relations  to  one  another.  And  the  question  to  be  an- 
swered is  — What  dynamic  principle,  true  of  the  metamorphosis 
as  a whole  and  in  its  details,  expresses  these  ever-changing  re- 
lations ? 

This  chapter  has  served  its  purpose  if  it  has  indicated  the 
nature  of  the  ultimate  problem.  The  discussion  on  which  we 
are  now  to  enter,  may  fitly  open  with  a new  presentation  of 
this  problem,  carrying  with  it  the  clear  implication  that  a 
Philosophy,  rightly  so-called,  can  CGme  into  existence  only  by 
solving  the  problem. 


EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION 


241 


CHAPTER  XII. 

EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION. 

§ 93.  An  entire  history  of  anything  must  include  its  ap- 
pearance out  of  the  imperceptible  and  its  disappearance  into 
the  imperceptible.  Be  it  a single  object  or  the  whole  universe, 
any  account  which  begins  with  it  in  a concrete  form,  or  leaves 
off  with  it  in  a concrete  form,  is  incomplete ; since  there  remains 
an  era  of  its  knowable  existence  undescribed  and  unexplained. 
Admitting,  or  rather  asserting,  that  knowledge  is  limited  to 
the  phenomenal,  we  have,  by  implication,  asserted  that  the  sphere 
of  knowledge  is  co-extensive  with  the  phenomenal  — co-extensive 
with  all  modes  of  the  Unknowable  that  can  affect  consciousness. 
Hence,  wherever  we  now  find  Being  so  conditioned  as  to  act 
on  our  senses,  there  arise  the  questions  — how  came  it  thus  con- 
ditioned ? and  how  will  it  cease  to  be  thus  conditioned  ? Unless 
on  the  assumption  that  it  acquired  a sensible  form  at  the  mo- 
ment of  perception,  and  lost  its  sensible  form  the  moment 
after  perception,  it  must  have  had  an  antecedent  existence 
under  this  sensible  form,  and  will  have  a subsequent  existence 
under  this  sensible  form.  These  preceding  and  succeeding  ex- 
istences under  sensible  forms,  are  possible  subjects  of  knowledge; 
and  knowledge  has  obviously  not  reached  its  limits  until  it  has 
united  the  past,  present  and  future  histories  into  a whole. 

The  sayings  and  doings  of  daily  life  imply  more  or  less 
such  knowledge,  actual  or  potential,  of  states  which  have  gone 
before  and  of  states  which  will  come  after;  and,  indeed,  the 
greater  part  of  our  knowledge  involves  these  elements.  Know- 
ing any  man  personally,  implies  having  before  seen  him  under 
a shape  much  the  same  as  his  present  shape;  and  knowing  him 
simply  as  a man,  implies  the  inferred  antecedent  states  of  in- 
fancy, childhood  and  youth.  Though  the  man’s  future  is  not 
known  specifically,  it  is  known  generally : the  facts  that  he  will 
die  and  that  his  body  will  decay,  are  facts  which  complete  in 


242 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


outline  the  changes  to  be  hereafter  gone  through  by  him.  So 
with  all  the  objects  around.  The  pre-existence  under  concrete 
forms  of  the  woollens,  silks,  and  cottons  we  wear,  we  can  trace 
some  distance  back.  We  are  certain  that  our  furniture  consists 
of  matter  which  was  aggregated  by  trees  within  these  few  gen- 
erations. Even  of  the  stones  composing  the  walls  of  the  house, 
we  are  able  to  say  that  years  or  centuries  ago,  they  formed  parts 
of  some  stratum  imbedded  in  the  earth.  Moreover,  respecting 
the  hereafter  of  the  wearable  fabrics,  the  furniture,  and  the 
walls,  we  can  assert  thus  much,  that  they  are  all  in  process 
of  decay,  and  in  periods  of  various  lengths  will  lose  their  present 
coherent  shapes.  This  general  information  which  all  men  gain 
concerning  the  past  and  future  careers  of  surrounding  things, 
Science  has  extended,  and  continues  unceasingly  to  extend.  To 
the  biography  of  the  individual  man,  it  adds  an  intra-uterine 
biography  beginning  with  him  as  a microscopic  germ;  and  it 
follows  out  his  ultimate  changes  until  it  finds  his  body  resolved 
into  the  gaseous  products  of  decomposition.  Not  stopping  short 
at  the  sheep’s  back  and  the  caterpillar’s  cocoon,  it  identifies  in 
wool  and  silk  the  nitrogenous  matters  absorbed  by  the  sheep 
and  the  caterpillars  from  pdants.  The  substance  of  a plant’s 
leaves,  in  common  with  the  wood  from  which  furniture  is 
made,  it  again  traces  back  to  the  vegetal  assimilation  of  gases 
from  the  air  and  of  certain  minerals  from  the  soil.  And  in- 
quiring whence  came  the  stratum  of  stone  that  was  quarried  to 
build  the  house,  it  finds  that  this  was  once  a loose  sediment 
deposited  in  an  estuary  or  on  the  sea  bottom. 

If,  then,  the  past  and  the  future  of  each  object,  is  a sphere 
of  possible  knowledge;  and  if  intellectual  progress  consists 
largely,  if  not  mainly,  in  widening  our  acquaintance  with  this 
past  and  this  future;  it  is  obvious  that  we  have  not  acquired 
all  the  information  within  the  grasp  of  our  intelligence  until 
we  can,  in  some  way  or  other,  express  the  whole  past  and 
the  whole  future  of  each  object  and  the  aggregate  of  objects. 
Usually  able,  as  we  are,  to  say  of  any  visible  tangible  thing 
how  it  came  to  have  its  present  shape  and  consistence;  we  are 
fully  possessed  with  the  conviction  that,  setting  out  abruptly 
as  we  do  with  some  substance  which  already  had  a concrete 
form,  our  history  is  incomplete : the  thing  had  a history  preced- 
ing the  state  with  which  we  started.  Hence  our  Theory  of 


EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION 


243 


Things,  considered  individually  or  in  their  totality,  is  confessedly 
imperfect  so  long  as  any  past  or  future  portions  of  their  sensible 
existences  are  unaccounted  for. 

May  it  not  be  inferred  that  Philosophy  has  to  formulate  this 
passage  from  the  imperceptible  into  the  perceptible,  and  again 
from  the  perceptible  into  the  imperceptible?  Is  it  not  clear 
that  this  general  law  of  the  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion, 
which  we  lately  saw  is  required  to  unify  the  various  kinds  of 
changes,  must  also  be  one  that  unifies  the  successive  changes 
which  sensible  existences,  separately  and  together,  pass  through  ? 
Only  by  some  formula  combining  these  characters  can  knowledge 
be  reduced  to  a coherent  whole. 

§ 94.  Already  in  the  foregoing  paragraphs  the  outline  of  such 
a formula,  is  foreshadowed.  Already  in  recognizing  the  fact 
that  Science,  tracing  back  the  genealogies  of  various  objects, 
finds  their  components  were  once  in  diffused  states,  and,  pursu- 
ing their  histories  forward,  finds  diffused  states  will  be  again 
assumed  by  them,  we  have  recognized  the  fact  that  the  formula 
must  be  one  comprehending  the  two  opposite  processes  of  con- 
centration and  diffusion.  And  already  in  thus  describing  the 
general  nature  of  the  formula,  we  have  approached  a specific 
expression  of  it.  The  change  from  a diffused,  imperceptible 
state,  to  a concentrated,  perceptible  state,  is  an  integration  of 
matter  and  concomitant  dissipation  of  motion;  and  the  change 
from  a concentrated,  perceptible  state,  to  a diffused,  imper- 
ceptible state,  is  an  absorption  of  motion  and  concomitant  dis- 
integration of  matter.  These  are  truisms.  Constituent  parts 
cannot  aggregate  without  losing  some  of  their  relative  motion; 
and  they  cannot  separate  without  more  relative  motion  being 
given  to  them.  We  are  not  concerned  here  with  any  motion 
which  the  components  of  a mass  have  with  respect  to  other 
masses : we  are  concerned  only  with  the  motion  they  have 
with  respect  to  one  another.  Confining  our  attention  to  this 
internal  motion,  and  to  the  matter  possessing  it,  the  axiom  which 
we  have  to  recognize  is  that  a progressing  consolidation  involves 
a decrease  of  internal  motion;  and  that  increase  of  internal 
motion  involves  a progressing  unconsolidation. 

When  taken  together,  the  two  opposite  processes  thus  formu- 
lated constitute  the  history  of  every  sensible  existence,  under  its 


244 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


simplest  form.  Loss  of  motion  and  consequent  integration, 
eventually  followed  by  gain  of  motion  and  consequent  disinte- 
gration — see  here  a statement  comprehensive  of  the  entire 
series  of  changes  passed  through : comprehensive  in  an  extremely 
general  way,  as  any  statement  which  holds  of  sensible  existences 
at  large  must  be ; but  still,  comprehensive  in  the  sense  that  all 
the  changes  gone  through  fall  within  it.  This  will  probably  be 
thought  too  sweeping  an  assertion;  but  we  shall  quickly  find  it 
justified. 

§ 95.  For  here  we  have  to  note  the  further  all-important 
fact,  that  every  change  undergone  by  every  sensible  exist- 
ence, is  a change  in  one  or  other  of  these  two  opposite  directions. 
Apparently  an  aggregate  which  has  passed  out  of  some  originally 
discrete  state  into  a concrete  state,  thereafter  remains  for  an 
indefinite  period  without  undergoing  further  integration,  and 
without  beginning  to  disintegrate.  But  this  is  untrue.  All 
things  are  growing  or  decaying,  accumulating  matter  or  wearing 
away,  integrating  or  disintegrating.  All  things  are  varying  in 
their  temperatures,  contracting  or  expanding,  integrating  or 
disintegrating.  Both  the  quantity  of  matter  contained  in  an 
aggregate,  and  the  quantity  of  motion  contained  in  it,  increase 
or  decrease;  and  increase  or  decrease  of  either  is  an  advance 
toward  greater  diffusion  or  greater  concentration.  Continued 
losses  or  gains  of  substance,  however  slow,  imply  ultimate  dis- 
appearance or  indefinite  enlargement ; and  losses  or  gains  of  the 
insensible  motion  we  call  heat,  will,  if  continued,  produce 
complete  integration  or  complete  disintegration.  The  sun’s 
rays  falling  on  a cold  mass,  augmenting  the  molecular  motions 
throughout  it,  and  causing  it  to  occupy  more  space,  are  be- 
ginning a process  which  if  carried  far  will  disintegrate  the  mass 
into  liquid,  and  if  carried  farther  will  disintegrate  the  liquid 
into  gas;  and  the  diminution  of  bulk  which  a volume  of  gas 
undergoes  as  it  parts  with  some  of  its  molecular  motion,  is  a 
diminution  which,  if  the  loss  of  molecular  motion  proceeds, 
will  presently  be  followed  by  liquefaction  and  eventually  by 
solidification.  And  since  there  is  no  such  thing  as  an  absolutely 
constant  temperature,  the  necessary  inference  is  that  every  ag- 
gregate is  at  every  moment  progressing  toward  either  greater 
concentration  or  greater  diffusion. 


EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION 


245 


Not  only  does  all  change  consisting  in  the  addition  or  sub- 
traction of  matter  come  under  this  head;  and  not  only  does 
this  head  include  all  change  called  thermal  expansion  or  con- 
traction; but  it  is  also,  in  a general  way,  comprehensive  of  all 
change  distinguished  as  transposition.  Every  internal  redistri- 
bution which  leaves  the  component  molecules  or  the  constituent 
portions  of  a mass  differently  placed  with  respect  to  one  another, 
is  sure  to  be  at  the  same  time  a progress  toward  integration  or 
toward  disintegration  — is  sure  to  have  altered  in  some  degree 
the  total  space  occupied.  For  when  the  parts  have  been  moved 
relatively  to  one  another,  the  chances  are  infinity  to  one  that 
their  average  distances  from  the  common  centre  of  the  aggregate 
are  no  longer  the  same.  Hence  whatever  be  the  special  charac- 
ter of  the  redistribution  — be  it  that  of  superficial  accretion  or 
detachment,  be  it  that  of  general  expansion  or  contraction,  be  it 
that  of  rearrangement,  it  is  always  an  advance  in  integration 
or  disintegration.  It  is  always  this,  though  it  may  at  the  same 
time  be  something  further. 

§ 96.  A general  idea  of  these  universal  actions  under  their 
simplest  aspects  having  been  obtained,  we  may  now  consider 
them  under  certain  relatively  complex  aspects.  Changes  toward 
greater  concentration  or  greater  diffusion,  nearly  always  proceed 
after  a manner  much  more  involved  than  that  above  described. 
Thus  far  we  have  supposed  one  or  other  of  the  two  opposite 
processes  to  go  on  alone  — we  have  supposed  an  aggregate  to 
be  either  losing  motion  and  integrating  or  gaining  motion  and 
disintegrating.  But  though  it  is  true  that  every  change  fur- 
thers one  or  other  of  these  processes,  it  is  not  true  that  either 
process  is  ever  wholly  unqualified  by  the  other.  For  each  aggre- 
gate is  at  all  times  both  gaining  motion  and  losing  motion. 

Every  mass  from  a grain  of  sand  to  a planet,  radiates  heat 
to  other  masses,  and  absorbs  heat  radiated  by  other  masses; 
and  in  so  far  as  it  does  the  one  it  becomes  integrated,  while 
in  so  far  as  it  does  the  other  it  becomes  disintegrated.  Ordina- 
rily in  inorganic  objects  this  double  process  works  but  unob- 
trusive effects.  Only  in  a few  cases,  among  which  that  of  a 
cloud  is  the  most  familiar,  does  the  conflict  produce  rapid  and 
marked  transformations.  One  of  these  floating  bodies  of  vapor 
expands  and  dissipates,  if  the  amount  of  molecular  motion  it 


246 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


receives  from  the  Sun  and  Earth,  exceeds  that  which  it  loses 
by  radiation  into  space  and  toward  adjacent  surfaces;  while, 
contrariwise,  if,  drifting  over  cold  mountain  tops,  it  radiates 
to  them  much  more  heat  than  it  receives,  the  loss  of  molecular 
motion  is  followed  by  increasing  integration  of  the  vapor  end- 
ing in  the  aggregation  of  it  into  liquid  and  ’the  fall  of  rain. 
Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  integration  or  the  disintegration  is  a 
differential  result. 

In  living  aggregates,  and  more  especially  those  classed  as 
animals,  these  conflicting  processes  go  on  with  great  activity 
under  several  forms.  There  is  not  merely  what  we  may  call  the 
passive  integration  of  matter,  that  results  in  inanimate-  objects 
from  simple  molecular  attractions;  but  there  is  an  active  inte- 
gration of  it  under  the  form  of  food.  In  addition  to  that 
passive  superficial  disintegration  which  inanimate  objects  suffer 
from  external  agents,  animals  produce  in  themselves  active  in- 
ternal disintegration,  by  absorbing  such  agents  into  their  sub- 
stance. While,  like  inorganic  aggregates,  they  passively  give 
off  and  receive  motion,  they  are  also  active  absorbers  of  motion 
latent  in  food,  and  active  expenders  of  that  motion.  But  not- 
withstanding this  complication  of  the  two  processes,  and  the 
immense  exaltation  of  the  conflict  between  them,  it  remains  true 
that  there  is  always  a differential  progress  toward  either  inte- 
gration or  disintegration.  During  the  earlier  part  of  the  cycle 
of  changes,  the  integration  predominates  — there  goes  on  what 
we  call  growth.  The  middle  part  of  the  cycle  is  usually  char- 
acterized, not  by  equilibrium  between  the  integrating  and  dis- 
integrating processes,  but  by  alternate  excesses  of  them.  And 
the  cycle  closes  with  a period  in  which  the  disintegration,  be- 
ginning to  predominate,  eventually  puts  a stop  to  integration, 
and  undoes  what  integration  had  originally  done.  At  no  mo- 
ment are  assimilation  and  waste  so  balanced  that  no  increase  or 
decrease  of  mass  is  going  on.  Even  in  cases  where  one  part 
is  growing  while  other  parts  are  dwindling,  and  even  in  cases 
where  different  parts  are  differently  exposed  to  external  sources 
of  motion  so  that  some  are  expanding  while  others  are  con- 
tracting, the  truth  still  holds.  For  the  chances  are  infinity  to 
one  against  these  opposite  changes  balancing  one  another;  and 
if  they  do  not  balance  one  another,  the  aggregate  as  a whole 
is  integrating  or  disintegrating. 


EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION 


247 


Everywhere  and  to  the  last,  therefore,  the  change  at  any  mo- 
ment going  on  forms  a part  of  one  or  other  of  the  two  processes. 
While  the  general  history  of  every  aggregate  is  definable  as 
a change  from  a diffused  imperceptible  state  to  a concentrated 
perceptible  state,  and  again  to  a diffused  imperceptible  state; 
every  detail  of  the  history  is  definable  as  a part  of  either  the 
one  change  or  the  other.  This,  then,  must  be  that  universal 
law  of  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion,  which  serves  at 
once  to  unify  the  seemingly  diverse  groups  of  changes,  as  well 
as  the  entire  course  of  each  group. 

§ 97.  The  processes  thus  everywhere  in  antagonism,  and  ev- 
erywhere gaining  now  a temporary  and  now  a more  or  less 
permanent  triumph  the  one  over  the  other,  we  call  Evolution 
and  Dissolution.  Evolution  under  its  simplest  and  most  general 
aspect  is  the  integration  of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation 
of  motion;  while  Dissolution  is  the  absorption  of  motion  and 
concomitant  disintegration  of  matter. 

These  titles  are  by  no  means  all  that  is  desirable;  or  rather 
we  may  say  that  while  the  last  answers  its  purpose  tolerably 
well,  the  first  is  open  to  grave  objections.  Evolution  has  other 
meanings,  some  of  which  are  incongruous  with,  and  some  even 
directly  opposed  to,  the  meaning  here  given  to  it.  The  evolu- 
tion of  a gas  is  literally  an  absorption  of  motion  and  disintegra- 
tion of  matter,  which  is  exactly  the  reverse  of  that  which  we 
here  call  Evolution  — is  that  which  we  here  call  Dissolution. 
As  ordinarily  understood,  to  evolve  is  to  unfold,  to  open  and 
expand,  to  throw  out,  to  emit ; whereas,  as  we  understand  it,  the 
act  of  evolving,  though  it  implies  increase  of  a concrete  ag- 
gregate, and  in  so  far  an  expansion  of  it,  implies  that  its  com- 
ponent matter  has  passed  from  a more  diffused  to  a more 
concentrated  state  — has  contracted.  The  antithetical  word  In- 
volution would  much  more  truly  express  the  nature  of  the 
process;  and  would,  indeed,  describe  better  the  secondary  char- 
acters of  the  process  which  we  shall  have  to  deal  with  presently. 
We  are  obliged,  however,  notwithstanding  the  liabilities  to 
confusion  that  must  result  from  these  unlike  and  even  con- 
tradictory meanings,  to  use  Evolution  as  antithetical  to  Dissolu- 
tion. The  word  is  now  so  widely  recognized  as  signifying, 
not,  indeed,  the  general  process  above  described,  but  sundry 


248 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


of  the  most  conspicuous  varieties  of  it,  and  certain  of  its 
secondary  but  most  remarkable  accompaniments,  that  we  cannot 
now  substitute  another  word.  All  we  can  do  is  carefully  to 
define  the  interpretation  to  be  given  to  it. 

While,  then,  we  shall  by  Dissolution  everywhere  mean  the 
process  tacitly  implied  by  its  ordinary  meaning  — the  absorp- 
tion of  motion  and  disintegration  of  matter;  we  shall  every- 
where mean  by  Evolution,  the  process  which  is  always  an  inte- 
gration of  matter  and  dissipation  of  motion,  but  which,  as 
we  shall  now  see,  is  in  most  cases  much  more  than  this. 


i 


i 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION 


249 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION. 

§ 98.  Where  the  only  forces  at  work  are  those  directly 
tending  to  produce  aggregation  or  diffusion,  the  whole  history 
of  an  aggregate  will  comprise  no  more  than  the  approaches 
of  its  components  toward  their  common  centre  and  their  re- 
cessions from  their  common  centre.  The  process  of  Evolution, 
including  nothing  beyond  what  was  described  at  the  outset  of 
the  last  chapter,  will  be  simple. 

Again,  in  cases  where  the  forces  which  cause  movements  to- 
ward a common  centre  are  greatly  in  excess  of  all  other  forces, 
any  changes  additional  to  those  constituting  aggregation  will 
be  comparatively  insignificant  — there  will  be  integration 
.scarcely  at  all  modified  by  further  kinds  of  redistribution. 

Or,  if,  because  of  the  smallness  of  the  mass  to  be  integrated; 
or  because  of  the  little  motion  the  mass  receives  from  without 
in  return  for  the  motion  it  loses,  the  integration  proceeds  rap- 
idly; there  will  similarly  be  wrought  but  insignificant  effects 
on  the  integrating  mass  by  incident  forces,  even  though  these 
are  considerable. 

But  when,  conversely,  the  integration  is  but  slow;  either 
because  the  quantity  of  motion  contained  in  the  aggregate  is 
relatively  great;  or  because,  though  the  quantity  of  motion 
which  each  part  possesses  is  not  relatively  great,  the  large 
size  of  the  aggregate  prevents  easy  dissipation  of  the  motion; 
or  because,  though  motion  is  rapidly  lost  more  motion  is  rapidly 
received;  then,  other  forces  will  cause  in  the  aggregate  appre- 
ciable modifications.  Along  with  the  change  constituting  inte- 
gration, there  will  take  place  supplementary  changes.  The  Evo- 
lution, instead  of  being  simple,  will  be  compound. 

The  several  propositions  thus  briefly  enunciated  require  some 
explanation. 


250 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


§ 99.  So  long  as  a body  moves  freely  through  space,  every 
force  that  acts  on  it  produces  an  equivalent  in  the  shape  of 
some  change  in  its  motion.  No  matter  how  high  its  velocity, 
the  slightest  lateral  traction  or  resistance  causes  it  to  deviate 
from  its  line  of  movement  — causes  it  to  move  toward  the  new 
source  of  traction  or  away  from  the  new  source  of  resistance, 
just  as  much  as  it  would  do  had  it  no  other  motion.  And 
the  effect  of  the  perturbing  influence  goes  on  accumulating 
in  the  ratio  of  the  squares  of  the  times  during  which  its  action 
continues  uniform.  This  same  body,  however,  will,  if  it  is 
united  in  certain  ways  with  other  bodies,  cease  to  be  movable 
by  small  incident  forces.  When  it  is  held  fast  by  gravitation 
or  cohesion,  these  small  incident  forces,  instead  of  giving  it 
some  relative  motion  through  space,  are  otherwise  dissipated. 

What  here  holds  of  masses,  holds,  in  a qualified  way,  of 
the  sensible  parts  of  masses,  and  of  molecules.  As  the  sensible 
parts  of  a mass,  and  the  molecules  of  a mass,  are,  by  virtue 
of  their  aggregation,  not  perfectly  free,  it  is  not  true  of  each 
of  them,  as  of  a body  moving  through  space,  that  every  incident 
force  produces  an  equivalent  change  of  position:  part  of  the 
force  goes  on  working  other  changes.  But  in  proportion  as 
the  parts  or  the  molecules  are  feebly  bound  together,  incident 
forces  effect  marked  rearrangements  among  them.  At  the  one 
extreme,  where  the  integration  is  so  slight  that  the  parts, 
sensible  or  insensible,  are  almost  independent,  they  are  almost 
completely  amenable  to  every  additional  action ; and  along  with 
the  concentration  going  on  there  go  on  other  redistributions. 
Contrariwise,  where  the  parts  have  approached  within  such 
small  distances  that  what  we  call  the  attraction  of  cohesion  is 
great,  additional  actions,  unless  intense,  cease  to  have  much 
power  to  cause  secondary  rearrangements.  The  firmly-united 
parts  no  longer  readily  change  their  relative  positions  in  obedi- 
ence to  small  perturbing  influences;  but  each  small  perturbing 
influence  usually  does  little  or  nothing  more  than  temporarily 
modify  the  insensible  molecular  motions. 

How  may  we  best  express  this  difference  in  the  most  general 
terms?  An  aggregate  that  is  widely  diffused,  or  but  little 
integrated,  is  an  aggregate  that  contains  a large  quantity  of  mo- 
tion — actual  or  potential  or  both.  An  aggregate  that  has  be- 
come completely  integrated  or  dense,  is  one  that  contains  com- 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION 


251 


paratively  little  motion:  most  of  the  motion  its  parts  once 
had  has  been  lost  during  the  integration  that  has  rendered 
it  dense.  Hence,  other  things  equal,  in  proportion  to  the  quan- 
tity of  motion  which  an  aggregate  contains  will  be  the  quantity 
of  secondary  change  in  the  arrangement  of  its  parts  that  ac- 
companies the  primary  change  in  their  arrangement.  Hence 
also,  other  things  equal,  in  proportion  to  the  time  during  which 
the  internal  motion  is  retained,  will  be  the  quantity  of  this 
secondary  redistribution  that  accompanies  the  primary  redis- 
tribution. It  matters  not  how  these  conditions  are  fulfilled. 
Whether  the  internal  motion  continues  great  because  the  com- 
ponents are  of  a kind  that  will  not  readily  aggregate,  or  because 
surrounding  conditions  prevent  them  from  parting  with  their 
motion,  or  because  the  loss  of  their  motion  is  impeded  by  the 
size  of  the  aggregate  they  form,  or  because  they  directly  or 
indirectly  obtain  more  motion  in  place  of  that  which  they  lose; 
it  throughout  remains  true  that  much  retained  internal  motion 
must  render  secondary  redistributions  facile,  and  that  long  re- 
tention of  it  must  make  possible  an  accumulation  of  such  sec- 
ondary redistributions.  Conversely,  the  non-fulfilment  of  these 
conditions,  however  caused,  entails  opposite  results.  Be  it  that 
the  components  of  the  aggregate  have  special  aptitudes  to  inte- 
grate quickly,  or  be  it  that  the  smallness  of  the  aggregate 
formed  of  them  permits  the  easy  escape  of  their  motion,  or  be 
it  that  they  receive  little  or  no  motion  in  exchange  for  that 
which  they  part  with;  it  alike  holds  that  but  little  secondary 
redistribution  can  accompany  the  primary  redistribution  consti- 
tuting their  integration. 

These  abstract  propositions  will  not  be  fully  understood  with- 
out illustrations.  Let  us,  before  studying  simple  and  com- 
pound Evolution  as  thus  determined,  contemplate  a few  cases  in 
which  the  quantity  of  internal  motion  is  artificially  changed, 
and  note  the  effects  on  the  rearrangement  of  parts. 

§ 100.  We  may  fitly  begin  with  a familiar  experience,  in- 
troducing the  general  principle  under  a rude  but  easily  com- 
prehensible form.  When  a vessel  has  been  filled  to  the  brim 
with  loose  fragments,  shaking  the  vessel  causes  them  to  settle 
down  into  less  space,  so  that  more  may  be  put  in.  And  when 
among  the  fragments  there  are  some  of  much  greater  specific 


252 


FIRST  FRINCIPLES 


gravity  than  the  rest,  these,  in  the  course  of  a prolonged  shaking 
find  their  way  to  the  bottom.  What  now  is  the  meaning  of 
such  results,  when  expressed  in  general  terms?  We  have  a 
group  of  units  acted  on  by  an  incident  force  — the  attraction 
of  the  Earth.  So  long  as  these  units  are  not  agitated,  this 
incident  force  produces  no  changes  in  their  relative  positions; 
agitate  them,  and  immediately  their  loose  arrangement  passes 
into  a more  compact  arrangement.  Again,  so  long  as  they  are 
not  agitated,  the  incident  force  cannot  separate  the  heavier 
units  from  the  lighter ; agitate  them,  and  immediately  the  heav- 
ier units  begin  to  segregate.  Mechanical  disturbances  of  more 
minute  kinds,  acting  on  the  parts  of  much  denser  aggregates, 
produce  analogous  effects.  A piece  of  iron  which,  when  it 
leaves  the  workshop,  is  fibrous  in  structure,  becomes  crystalline 
if  exposed  to  a perpetual  jar.  The  polar  forces  mutually  exer- 
cised by  the  atoms,  fail  to  change  the  disorderly  arrangement 
into  an  orderly  arrangement  while  the  atoms  are  relatively 
quiescent ; but  these  forces  succeed  in  rearranging  them  when 
the  atoms  are  kept  in  a state  of  intestine  agitation.  Similarly, 
the  fact  that  a bar  of  steel  suspended  in  the  magnetic  meridian 
and  repeatedly  struck,  becomes  magnetized,  is  ascribed  to  a 
rearrangement  of  particles  that  is  produced  by  the  magnetic 
force  of  the  Earth  when  vibi’ations  are  propagated  through  them, 
but  is  not  otherwise  produced.  Now  imperfectly  as  these  cases 
parallel  the  mass  of  those  we  are  considering,  they  nevertheless 
serve  roughly  to  illustrate  the  effect  which  adding  to  the  quan- 
tity of  motion  an  aggregate  contains  has  in  facilitating  rear- 
rangement of  its  parts. 

More  fully  illustrative  are  the  instances  in  which,  by  arti- 
ficially adding  to  or  subtracting  from  that  molecular  motion 
which  we  call  its  heat,  we  give  an  aggregate  increased  or  di- 
minished facility  of  rearranging  its  molecules.  The  process 
of  tempering  steel  or  annealing  glass,  shows  us  that  internal  re- 
distribution is  aided  by  insensible  vibrations,  as  we  have  just 
seen  it  to  be  by  sensible  vibrations.  When  some  molten  glass  is 
dropped  into  water,  and  when  its  outside  is  thus,  by  sudden 
solidification,  prevented  from  partaking  in  that  contraction  which 
the  subsequent  cooling  of  the  inside  tends  to  produce;  the  units 
are  left  in  such  a state  of  tension,  that  the  mass  flies  into  frag- 
ments if  a small  portion  of  it  be  broken  off.  But  if  this  mass 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION 


253 


be  kept  for  a day  or  two  at  a considerable  heat,  though  a heat 
not  sufficient  to  alter  its  form  or  produce  any  sensible  diminution 
of  hardness,  this  extreme  brittleness  disappears:  the  component 
particles  being  thrown  into  greater  agitation,  the  tensile  forces 
are  enabled  to  rearrange  them  into  a state  of  equilibrium.  Much 
more  conspicuously  do  we  see  the  effect  of  the  insensible  mo- 
tion called  heat,  where  the  rearrangement  of  parts  taking  place 
is  that  of  visible  segregation.  An  instance  is  furnished  by  the 
subsidence  of  fine  precipitates.  These  sink  down  very  slowly 
from  solutions  that  are  cold;  while  warm  solutions  deposit 
them  with  comparative  rapidity.  That  is  to  say,  exalting  the 
molecular  oscillation  throughout  the  mass,  allows  the  suspended 
particles  to  separate  more  readily  from  the  particles  of  fluid. 
The  influence  of  heat  on  chemical  changes  is  so  familiar,  that 
examples  are  scarcely  needed.  Be  the  substances  concerned 
gaseous,  liquid,  or  solid,  it  equally  holds  that  their  chem- 
ical unions  and  disunions  are  aided  by  rise  of  temperature. 
Affinities  which  do  not  suffice  to  effect  the  rearrangement  of 
mixed  units  that  are  in  a state  of  feeble  agitation,  suffice  to 
effect  it  when  the  agitation  is  raised  to  a certain  point.  And  so 
long  as  this  molecular  motion  is  not  great  enough  to  prevent 
those  chemical  cohesions  which  the  affinities  tend  to  produce, 
increase  of  it  gives  increased  facility  of  chemical  rearrangement. 

Another  class  of  facts  may  be  adduced  which,  though  not 
apparently,  are  really  illustrative  of  the  same  general  truth. 
Other  things  equal,  the  liquid  form  of  matter  implies  a greater 
quantity  of  contained  motion  than  the  solid  form  — the  liquid- 
ity is  itself  a consequence  of  such  greater  quantity.  Hence,  an 
aggregate  made  up  partly  of  liquid  matter  and  partly  of  solid 
matter,  contains  a greater  quantity  of  motion  than  one  which, 
otherwise  like  it,  is  made  up  wholly  of  solid  matter.  It  is 
inferable,  then,  that  a liquid-solid  aggregate,  or,  as  we  com- 
monly call  it,  a plastic  aggregate,  will  admit  of  internal  redis- 
tribution with  comparative  facility ; and  the  inference  is  verified 
by  experience.  A magma  of  unlike  substances  ground  up  with 
water,  while  it  continues  thin,  allows  a settlement  of  its  heav- 
ier components  — a separation  of  them  from  the  lighter.  As 
the  water  evaporates  this  separation  is  impeded,  and  ceases 
when  the  magma  becomes  very  thick.  But  even  when  it  has 
reached  the  semi-solid  state  in  which  gravitation  fails  to  cause 


254 


FIRST  FRINCIPLES 


further  segregation  of  its  mixed  components,  other  forces  may 
still  continue  to  produce  segregation : witness  the  fact  to  which 
attention  was  first  drawn  by  Mr.  Babbage,  that  when  the  pasty 
mixture  of  ground  flints  and  kaolin,  prepared  for  the  manufac- 
ture of  porcelain,  is  kept  some  time,  it  becomes  gritty  and 
unfit  for  use,  in  consequence  of  the  particles  of  silica  separating 
themselves  from  the  rest,  and  uniting  together  in  grains;  or 
witness  the  fact  known  to  every  housewife,  that  in  long-kept 
currant-jelly  the  sugar  takes  the  shape  of  imbedded  crystals. 

ISlo  matter  then  under  what  form  the  motion  contained  by 
an  aggregate  exists  — be  it  mere  mechanical  agitation,  or  the 
mechanical  vibrations  such  as  produce  sound,  be  it  molecular 
motion  absorbed  from  without,  or  the  constitutional  molecular 
motion  of  some  component  liquid,  the  same  truth  holds  through- 
out. Incident  forces  work  secondary  redistributions  easily  when 
the  contained  motion  is  large  in  quantity;  and  work  them  with 
increasing  difficulty  as  the  contained  motion  diminishes. 

§ 101.  Yet  another  class  of  facts  that  fall  within  the  same 
generalization,  little  as  they  seem  related  to  it,  must  be  indi- 
cated before  proceeding.  They  are  those  presented  by  certain 
contrasts  in  chemical  stability.  Speaking  generally,  stable  com- 
pounds contain  comparatively  little  molecular  motion;  and  in 
[proportion  as  the'  contained  molecular  motion  is  great  the  in- 
stability is  great. 

The  common  and  marked  illustration  of  this  to  be  first 
named,  is  that  chemical  stability  decreases  as  temperature  in- 
creases. Compounds  of  which  the  elements  are  strongly  united 
and  compounds  of  which  the  elements  are  feebly  united,  are 
alike  in  this,  that  raising  their  heats  or  increasing  the  quantities 
of  their  contained  molecular  motion,  diminishes  the  strengths 
of  the  unions  of  their  elements;  and  by  continually  adding 
to  the  quantity  of  contained  molecular  motion,  a point  is  in 
each  case  reached  at  which  the  chemical  union  is  destroyed. 
That  is  to  say,  the  redistribution  of  matter  which  constitutes 
simple  chemical  decomposition,  is  easy  in  proportion  as  the 
quantity  of  contained  motion  is  great.  The  like  holds  with 
double  decompositions.  Two  compounds,  A B and  C D,  mingled 
together  and  kept  at  a low  temperature,  may  severally  remain 
unchanged  — the  cross  affinities  between  their  components  may 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION 


255 


fail  to  cause  redistribution.  Increase  the  heat  of  the  mixture, 
or  add  to  the  molecular  motion  throughout  it,  and  redistribution 
takes  place;  ending  in  the  formation  of  the  compounds,  A C 
and  B D. 

Another  chemical  truth  having  a like  implication,  is  that 
chemical  elements  which,  as  they  ordinarily  exist,  contain  much 
motion,  have  combinations  less  stable  than  those  of  which  the 
elements,  as  they  ordinarily  exist,  contain  little  motion.  The 
gaseous  form  of  matter  implies  a relatively  large  amount  of 
molecular  motion;  while  the  solid  form  implies  a relatively 
small  amount  of  molecular  motion.  What  are  the  characters  of 
their  respective  compounds?  The  compounds  which  the  per- 
manent gases  form  with  one  another,  cannot  resist  high  tem- 
peratures : most  of  them  are  easily  decomposed  by  heat ; and  at  a 
red  heat,  even  the  stronger  ones  yield  up  their  components. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  chemical  unions  between  elements  that 
are  solid  except  at  very  high  temperatures,  are  extremely  stable. 
In  many,  if  not  indeed  in  most,  cases,  such  combined  elements 
are  not  separable  by  any  heat  we  can  produce. 

There  is,  again,  the  relation,  which  appears  to  have  a kin- 
dred meaning,  between  instability  and  amount  of  composition. 
“ In  general,  the  molecular  heat  of  a compound  increases  with 
the  degree  of  complexity.”  With  increase  of  complexity  there 
also  goes  increased  facility  of  decomposition.  Whence  it  follows 
that  molecules  which  contain  much  motion  in  virtue  of  their 
complexity,  are  those  of  which  the  components  are  most  readily 
redistributed.  This  holds  not  only  of  the  complexity  resulting 
from  the  union  of  several  unlike  elements;  but  it  holds  also 
of  the  complexity  resulting  from  the  union  of  the  same  elements 
in  higher  multiples.  Matter  has  two  solid  states,  distinguished 
as  crystalloid  and  colloid;  of  which  the  first  is  due  to  -union 
of  the  individual  atoms  or  molecules,  and  the  second  to  the 
union  of  groups  of  such  individual  atoms  or  molecules;  and 
of  which  the  first  is  stable  and  the  second  unstable. 

But  the  most  striking  and  conclusive  illustration  is  furnished 
by  the  combinations  into  which  nitrogen  enters.  These  have 
the  two  characters  of  being  specially  unstable  and  of  contain- 
ing specially  great  quantities  of  motion.  A recently-ascertained 
peculiarity  of  nitrogen,  is,  that  instead  of  giving  out  heat 
when  it  combines  with  other  elements,  it  absorbs  heat.  That  is 


256 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


to  say,  besides  carrying  with  it  into  the  liquid  or  solid  com- 
pound it  forms,  the  motion  which  previously  constituted  it  a gas, 
it  takes  up  additional  motion;  and  where  the  other  element 
with  which  it  unites  is  gaseous,  the  molecular  motion  proper 
to  this,  also,  is  locked  up  in  the  compound.  Now  these  nitrogen- 
compounds  are  unusually  prone  to  decomposition ; and  the 
decompositions  of  many  of  them  take  place  with  extreme  vio- 
lence. All  our  explosive  substances  are  nitrogenous  — the  most 
terribly  destructive  of  them  all,  chloride  of  nitrogen,  being  one 
which  contains  the  immense  quantity  of  motion  proper  to  its  com- 
ponent gases,  plus  a certain  further  quantity  of  motion. 

Clearly  these  general  chemical  truths  are  parts  of  the  more 
general  physical  truth  we  are  tracing  out.  We  see  in  them 
that  what  holds  of  sensible  aggregates,  holds  also  of  the  insensible 
aggregates  we  call  molecules.  Like  the  aggregates  formed  of 
them,  these  ultimate  aggregates  become  more  or  less  integrated 
according  as  they  lose  or  gain  motion;  and  like  them  also, 
according  as  they  contain  much  or  little  motion,  they  are  liable 
to  undergo  secondary  redistributions  of  parts  along  with  the 
primary  redistribution. 

§ 102.  And  now  having  got  this  general  principle  clearly 
into  view,  let  us  go  on  to  observe  how,  in  conformity  with  it. 
Evolution  becomes,  according  to  the  conditions,  either  simple 
or  compound. 

If  a little  sal-ammoniac,  or  other  volatile  solid,  be  heated, 
it  is  disintegrated  by  the  absorbed  molecular  motion,  and  rises 
in  gas.  When  the  gas  so  produced,  coming  in  contact  with 
a cold  surface,  loses  its  excess  of  molecular  motion,  integration 
takes  place  — the  substance  assumes  the  form  of  crystals.  This 
is  a case  of  simple  evolution.  The  process  of  concentration  of 
matter  and  dissipation  of  motion  does  not  here  proceed  in  a, 
gradual  manner  — does  not  pass  through  stages  occupying  con- 
siderable periods;  but  the  molecular  motion  which  reduced  it 
to  the  gaseous  state  being  dissipated,  the  matter  passes  suddenly 
to  a completely  solid  state.  The  result  is  that  along  with  this 
primary  redistribution  there  go  on  no  appreciable  secondary 
redistributions.  Substantially  the  same  thing  holds  with  crys- 
tals deposited  from  solutions.  Loss  of  that  molecular  motion 
which,  down  to  a certain  point,  keeps  the  molecules  from  unit' 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION 


257 


ing,  and  sudden  solidification  when  the  loss  goes  below  that  point, 
occur  here  as  before ; and  here  as  before,  the  absence  of  a period 
during  which  the  molecules  are  partially  free  and  gradually  los- 
ing their  freedom,  is  accompanied  by  the  absence  of  supplemen- 
tary rearrangements. 

Mark,  conversely,  what  happens  when  the  concentration  is 
slow.  A gaseous  mass  losing  its  heat,  and  undergoing  a con- 
sequent decrease  of  bulk,  is  not  subject  only  to  this  change 
which  brings  its  parts  nearer  to  their  common  centre,  but  also 
to  many  simultaneous  changes.  The  great  quantity  of  molecu- 
lar motion  contained  in  it,  giving,  as  we  have  seen  that  it  must, 
great  molecular  mobility,  renders  every  part  sensitive  to  every 
incident  force;  and,  as  a result,  its  parts  have  various  motions 
besides  that  implied  by  their  progressing  integration.  Indeed 
these  secondary  motions,  which  we  know  as  currents,  are  so 
important  and  conspicuous  as  quite  to  subordinate  the  primary 
motion.  Suppose  that  presently,  the  loss  of  molecular  motion 
has  reached  that  point  at  which  the  gaseous  state  can  no  longer 
be  maintained,  and  condensation  follows.  Under  their  more 
closely-united  form,  the  parts  of  the  aggregate  display,  to  a 
considerable  degree,  the  same  phenomena  as  before.  The  molec- 
ular motion  and  accompanying  molecular  mobility  implied  by 
the  liquid  state,  permit  easy  rearrangement;  and  hence,  along 
with  further  contraction  of  volume,  consequent  on  further  loss 
of  motion,  there  go  on  rapid  and  marked  changes  in  the  rela- 
tive positions  of  parts  — local  streams  produced  by  slight  dis- 
turbing forces.  But  now,  assuming  the  substance  to  be  formed 
of  molecules  that  have  not  those  peculiarities  leading  to  the 
sudden  integration  which  we  call  crystallization,  what  happens 
as  the  molecular  motion  further  decreases?  The  liquid  thick- 
ens — its  parts  cease  to  be  relatively  movable  among  one  another 
with  ease ; and  the  transpositions  caused  by  feeble  incident  forces 
become  comparatively  slow.  Little  by  little  the  currents  are 
stopped,  but  the  mass  still  continues  modifiable  by  stronger 
incident  forces.  Gravitation  makes  it  bend  or  spread  out  when 
not  supported  on  all  sides ; and  it  may  easily  be  indented.  As  it 
cools,  however,  it  continues  to  grow  stiffer,  as  we  say  — less 
capable  of  having  its  parts  changed  in  their  relative  positions. 
And  eventually,  further  loss  of  heat  rendering  it  quite  hard, 


258 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


its  parts  are  no  longer  appreciably  rearrangeable  by  any  save 
violent  actions. 

Among  inorganic  aggregates,  then,  secondary  redistributions 
accompany  the  primary  redistribution,  throughout  the  whole 
process  of  concentration,  where  this  is  gradual.  During  the 
gaseous  and  liquid  stages,  the  secondary  redistributions,  rapid 
and  extensive  as  they  are,  leave  no  traces  — the  molecular  mo- 
bility being  such  as  to  negative  the  fixed  arrangement  of  parts 
we  call  structure.  On  approaching  solidity  we  arrive  at  a 
condition  called  plastic,  in  which  redistributions  can  still  be 
made,  though  much  less  easily;  and  in  which,  being  changeable 
less  easily,  they  have  a certain  persistence  — a persistence  which 
can,  however,  become  decided,  only  where  further  solidification 
stops  further  redistribution. 

Here  we  see,  in  the  first  place,  what  are  the  conditions  under 
which  Evolution  instead  of  being  simple  becomes  compound, 
while  we  see,  in  the  second  place,  how  the  compounding  of 
it  can  be  carried  far  only  under  conditions  more  special  than 
any  hitherto  contemplated;  since,  on  the  one  hand,  a large 
amount  of  secondary  redistribution  is  possible  only  where  there 
is  a great  quantity  of  contained  motion,  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
these  redistributions  can  have  permanence  only  where  the  con- 
tained motion  has  become  small  ■ — • opposing  conditions  which 
seem  to  negative  any  large  amount  of  permanent  secondary  re- 
distribution. 

§ 103.  And  now  we  are  in  a position  to  observe  how  these 
apparently  contradictory  conditions  are  reconciled;  and  how, 
by  the  reconciliation  of  them,  permanent  secondary  redistribu- 
tions immense  in  extent  are  made  possible.  We  shall  appreciate 
the  distinctive  peculiarity  of  the  aggregates  classed  as  organic, 
in  which  Evolution  becomes  so  highly  compounded;  and  shall 
see  that  this  peculiarity  consists  in  the  combination  of  matter 
into  a form  embodying  an  enormous  amount  of  motion  at  the 
same  time  that  it  has  a great  degree  of  concentration. 

For  notwithstanding  its  semi-solid  consistence,  organic  mat- 
ter contains  molecular  motion  locked  up  in  each  of  the  ways 
above  contemplated  separately.  Let  us  note  its  several  constitu- 
tional traits.  Three  out  of  its  four  chief  components  are  gas- 
eous ; and  in  their  uncombined  states  the  gases  united  in  it  have 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION 


259 


so  much  molecular  motion  that  they  are  incondensable.  Hence 
as  the  characters  of  elements,  though  disguised,  cannot  be  abso- 
lutely lost  in  combinations,  it  is  to  be  inferred  that  the  pro- 
tein-molecule concentrates  a comparatively  large  amount  of 
motion  in  a small  space.  And  since  many  equivalents  of  these 
gaseous  elements  unite  in  one  of  these  protein-molecules,  there 
must  be  in  it  a large  quantity  of  relative  motion  in  addition 
to  that  which  the  ultimate  atoms  possess.  Moreover,  organic 
matter  has  the  peculiarity  that  its  molecules  are  aggregated  into 
the  colloid  and  not  into  the  crystalloid  arrangement;  forming, 
as  is  supposed,  clusters  of  clusters  which  have  movements  in 
relation  to  one  another.  Here,  then,  is  a further  mode  in 
which  molecular  motion  is  included.  Yet,  again,  these  com- 
pounds of  which  the  essential  parts  of  organisms  are  built,  are 
nitrogeneous ; and  we  have  lately  seen  it  to  be  a peculiarity 
of  nitrogenous  compounds,  that  instead  of  giving  out  heat  dur- 
ing their  formation  they  absorb  heat.  To  all  the  molecular 
motion  possessed  by  gaseous  nitrogen,  is  added  more  motion ; and 
the  whole  is  concentrated  in  solid  protein.  Organic  aggregates 
are  very  generally  distinguished,  too,  by  having  much  insensible 
motion  in  a free  state  — the  motion  we  call  heat.  Though  in 
many  cases  the  quantity  of  this  contained  insensible  motion  is 
inconsiderable,  in  other  cases  a temperature  greatly  above  that 
of  the  environment  is'eonstantly  maintained.  Once  more,  there 
is  the  still  larger  quantity  of  motion  embodied  by  the  water 
that  permeates  organic  matter.  It  is  this  which,  giving  to  the 
water  its  high  moleeular  mobility,  gives  mobility  to  the  organic 
molecules  partially  suspended  in  it;  and  preserves  that  plastic 
condition  which  so  greatly  facilitates  redistribution. 

From  these  several  statements,  no  adequate  idea  can  be  formed 
of  the  extent  to  which  living  organic  substance  is  thus  distin- 
guished from  other  substances  having  like  sensible  forms  of 
aggregation.  But  some  approximation  to  such  an  idea  may  be 
obtained  by  contrasting  the  bulk  occupied  by  this  substance, 
with  the  bulk  which  its  constituents  would  occupy  if  uncom- 
bined. An  accurate  comparison  cannot  be  made  in  the  present 
state  of  science.  What  expansion  would  occur  if  the  constit- 
uents of  the  nitrogenous  compounds  would  be  divorced  without 
the  addition  of  motion  from  without,  is  too  complex  a question 
to  be  answered.  But  respecting  the  constituents  of  that  which 


260 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


forms  some  four-fifths  of  the  total  weight  of  an  ordinary  ani- 
mal — its  water  — a tolerably  definite  answer  can  be  given. 
Were  the  oxygen  and  hydrogen  of  water  to  lose  their  affinities, 
and  were  no  molecular  motion  supplied  to  them  beyond  that 
contained  in  water  at  blood-heat,  they  would  assume  a volume 
twenty  times  that  of  the  water.1  Whether  protein  under  like 
conditions  would  expand  in  a greater  or  a less  degree,  must  re- 
main an  open  question;  but  remembering  the  gaseous  nature 
of  three  out  of  its  four  chief  components,  remembering  the 
above-named  peculiarity  of  nitrogenous  compounds,  remember- 
ing the  high  multiples  and  the  colloidal  form,  we  may  conclude 
that  the  expansion  would  be  great.  We  shall  not  be  far  wrong, 
therefore,  in  saying  that  the  elements  of  the  human  body,  if 
suddenly  disengaged  from  one  another,  would  occupy  a score 
times  the  space  they  do : the  movements  of  their  atoms  would 
compel  this  wide  diffusion.  Thus  the  essential  characteristic 
of  living  organic  matter,  is  that  it  unites  this  large  quantity 
of  contained  motion  with  a degree  of  cohesion  that  permits 
temporary  fixity  of  arrangement. 

§ 104.  Further  proofs  that  the  secondary  redistributions 
which  make  Evolution  compound,  depend  for  their  possibility  on 
the  reconciliation  of  these  conflicting  conditions,  are  yielded  by 
comparisons  of  organic  aggregates  with  one  another.  Besides 
seeing  that  organic  aggregates  differ  from  other  aggregates, 
alike  in  the  quantity  of  motion  they  contain  and  the  amount 
of  rearrangement  of  parts  that  accompanies  their  jmogressive 
integration;  we  shall  see  that  among  organic  aggregates  them- 
selves, differences  in  the  quantities  of  contained  motion  are 
accompanied  by  differences  in  the  amounts  of  redistribution. 

The  contrasts  among  organisms  in  chemical  composition  yield 
us  the  first  illustration.  Animals  are  distinguished  from  plants 
by  their  far  greater  amounts  of  structure,  as  well  as  by  the 
far  greater  rapidity  with  which  changes  of  structure  go  on  in 
them;  and  in  comparison  with  plants,  animals  are  at  the  same 
time  conspicuous  for  containing  immensely  larger  proportions 
of  those  highly-compounded  nitrogenous  molecules  in  which 
so  much  motion  is  locked  up.  So,  too,  is  it  with  the  con- 

1 1 am  indebted  for  this  result  to  Dr.  Frankland,  who  has  been  good 
enough  to  have  the  calculation  made  for  me. 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION 


261 


trasts  between  the  different  parts  of  each  animal.  Though  cer- 
tain nitrogenous  parts,  as  cartilage,  are  inert,  yet  the  parts 
in  which  the  secondary  redistributions  have  gone  on,  and 
are  ever  going  on,  most  actively,  are  those  in  which  the  most 
highly-compounded  molecules  predominate;  and  parts  which, 
like  the  deposits  of  fat,  consist  of  relatively-simple  molecules, 
are  seats  of  but  little  structure  and  but  little  change. 

We  find  clear  proof,  too,  that  the  continuance  of  the  sec- 
ondary redistributions  by  which  organic  aggregates  are  so  re- 
markably distinguished,  depends  on  the  presence  of  that  motion 
contained  in  the  water  diffused  through  them;  and  that,  other 
things  equal,  there  is  a direct  relation  between  the  amount 
of  redistribution  and  the  amount  of  contained  water.  The  evi- 
dences may  be  put  in  three  groups.  There  is  the  familiar 
fact  that  a plant  has  its  formative  changes  arrested  by  cutting 
off  the  supply  of  water : the  primary  redistribution  continues  — 
it  withers  and  shrinks  or  becomes  more  integrated  — but  the 
secondary  redistributions  cease.  There  is  the  less  familiar,  but 
no  less  certain,  fact,  that  the  like  result  occurs  in  animals  — 
occurs,  indeed,  as  might  be  expected,  after  a relatively  smaller 
diminution  of  water.  Certain  of  the  lowei  animals  furnish  ad- 
ditional proofs.  The  Eotifera  may  be  rendered  apparently  life- 
less by  desiccation,  and  will  yet  revive  if  wetted.  When  the 
African  rivers  which  it  inhabits  are  dried  up,  the  Lepidosiren 
remains  torpid  in  the  hardened  mud,  until  the  return  of  the 
rainy  season  brings  water.  Humboldt  states  that  during  the 
summer  drought,  the  alligators  of  the  Pampas  lie  buried  in  a 
state  of  suspended  animation  beneath  the  parched  surface,  and 
struggle  up  out  of  the  earth  as  soon  as  it  becomes  humid.  The 
history  of  each  organism  teaches  us  the  same  thing.  The  young 
plant,  just  putting  its  head  above  the  soil,  is  far  more  suc- 
culent than  the  adult  plant;  and  the  amount  of  transformation 
going  on  in  it  is  relatively  much  greater.  In  that  portion  of 
an  egg  which  displays  the  formative  processes  during  the  early 
stages  of  incubation,  the  changes  of  arrangement  axe  more  rapid 
than  those  which  an  equal  portion  of  the  body  of  a hatched, 
chick  undergoes.  As  may  be  inferred  from  their  respective 
powers  to  acquire  habits  and  aptitudes,  the  structural  modifia- 
bility of  a child  is  greater  than  that  of  an  adult  man;  and  the 
structural  modifiability  of  an  adult  man  is  greater  than  that 


262 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


of  an  old  man : contrasts  which  are  accompanied  by  corresponding 
contrasts  in  the  densities  of  the  tissues ; since  the  ratio  of  water 
to  solid  matter  diminishes  with  advancing  age.  And  then  we 
have  this  relation  repeated  in  the  contrasts  between  parts  of  the 
same  organism.  In  a tree,  rapid  structural  changes  go  on  at 
the  ends  of  shoots,  where  the  ratio  of  water  to  solid  matter 
is  very  great;  while  the  changes  are  very  slow  in  the  dense  and 
almost  dry  substance  of  the  trunk.  Similarly  in  animals,  we 
have  the  contrast  between  the  high  rate  of  change  going  on 
in  a soft  tissue  like  the  brain,  and  the  low  rate  of  change 
going  on  in  dry  non-vascular  tissues,  such  as  those  which  form 
hairs,  nails,  horns,  etc. 

Other  groups  of  facts  prove,  in  an  equally  unmistakable  way, 
that  the  quantity  of  secondary  redistribution  in  an  organism 
varies,  cceteris  paribus,  according  to  the  contained  quantity  of 
the  motion  we  call  heat.  The  contrasts  between  different  or- 
ganisms, and  different  states  of  the  same  organism,  unite  in 
showing  this.  Speaking  generally,  the  amounts  of  structure  and 
rates  of  structural  change,  are  smaller  throughout  the  vegetal 
kingdom  than  throughout  the  animal  kingdom;  and,  speaking 
generally,  the  heat  of  plants  is  less  than  the  heat  of  animals. 
Comparisons  of  the  several  divisions  of  the  animal  kingdom 
with  one  another,  disclose  among  them  parallel  relations.  Re- 
garded as  a whole,  vertebrate  animals  are  higher  in  temperature 
than  invertebrate  ones ; and  they  are  as  a whole  higher  in  organic 
activity  and  complexity.  Between  subdivisions  of  the  Vertebrata 
themselves,  like  differences  in  the  state  of  molecular  vibration 
accompany  like  differences  in  the  degree  of  evolution.  The 
least  compounded  of  the  Vertebrata  are  the  fishes;  and  in  most 
cases,  the  heat  of  fishes  is  nearly  the  same  as  that  of  the 
water  in  which  they  swim;  only  some  of  them  being  decidedly 
warmer.  Though  we  habitually  speak  of  reptiles  as  cold-blood- 
ed; and  though  they  have  not  much  more  power  than  fishes 
of  maintaining  a temperature  above  that  of  their  medium; 
yet  since  their  medium  (which  is,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  the 
air  of  warm  climates)  is  on  the  average  warmer  than  the 
medium  inhabited  by  fishes,  the  temperature  of  the  class  rep- 
tiles is  higher  than  that  of  the  class  fishes ; and  we  see  in 
them  a correspondingly  higher  complexity.  The  much  more 
active  molecular  agitation  in  mammals  and  birds,  is  associated 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION 


263 


with  a considerably  greater  multiformity  of  structure  and  a 
very  far  greater  vivacity.  The  most  instructive  contrasts,  how- 
ever, are  those  occurring  in  the  same  organic  aggregates  at  dif- 
ferent temperatures.  Plants  exhibit  structural  changes  that  vary 
in  rate  as  the  temperature  varies.  Though  light  is  the  agent 
which  effects  those  molecular  changes  causing  vegetal  growth,  yet 
we  see  that  in  the  absence  of  heat,  such  changes  are  not  effected : 
in  winter  there  is  enough  light,  but  the  heat  being  insufficient, 
plant-life  is  suspended.  That  this  is  the  sole  cause  of  the  sus- 
pension, is  proved  by  the  fact  that  at  the  same  season,  plants 
contained  in  hothouses,  where  they  receive  even  a smaller  amount 
of  light,  go  on  producing  leaves  and  flowers.  We  see,  too,  that 
their  seeds,  to  which  light  is  not  simply  needless  but  detrimental, 
begin  to  germinate  only  when  the  return  of  a warm  season  raises 
the  rate  of  molecular  agitation.  In  like  manner  the  ova  of 
animals,  undergoing  those  changes  by  which  structure  is  pro- 
duced in  them,  must  be  kept  more  or  less  warm : in  the  absence 
of  a certain  amount  of  motion  among  their  molecules,  the  re- 
arrangement of  parts  does  not  go  on.  Hibernating  animals  also 
supply  proof  that  loss  of  heat  carried  far,  retards  extremely  the 
processes  of  transformation.  In  animals  which  do  not  hiber- 
nate, as  in  man,  prolonged  exposure  to  intense  cold  produces  an 
irresistible  tendency  to  sleep  (which  implies  a lowered  rate  of 
structural  and  functional  changes)  ; and  if  the  abstraction  of 
heat  continues,  this  sleep  ends  in  death,  or  stoppage  of  these 
changes. 

Here,  then,  is  an  accumulation  of  proofs,  general  and  special. 
Living  aggregates  are  distinguished  by  the  connected  facts,  that 
during  integration  they  undergo  very  remarkable  secondary 
changes  which  other  aggregates  do  not  undergo  to  any  consid- 
erable extent;  and  that  they  contain  (bulks  being  supposed 
equal)  immensely  greater  quantities  of  motion,  locked  up  in 
various  ways. 

§ 105.  The  last  chapter  closed  with  the  remark  that  while 
Evolution  is  always  an  integration  of  Matter  and  dissipation 
of  Motion,  it  is  in  most  cases  much  more.  And  this  chapter 
opened  by  briefly  specifying  the  conditions  under  which  Evolu- 
tion is  integrative  only,  or  remains  simple,  and  the  conditions 
under  which  it  is  something  further  than  integrative,  or  becomes 


264 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


compound.  In  illustrating  this  contrast  between  simple  and 
compound  Evolution,  and  in  explaining  how  the  contrast  arises, 
a.  vague  idea  of  Evolution  in  general  has  been  conveyed.  Un- 
avoidably, we  have  to  some  extent  forestalled  the  full  dis- 
cussion of  Evolution  about  to  be  commenced. 

Thei'e  is  nothing  in  this  to  regret.  A preliminary  conception, 
indefinite  but  comprehensive,  is  always  useful  as  an  introduction 
to  a complete  conception  — cannot,  indeed,  be  dispensed  with. 
A complex  idea  is  not  communicable  directly,  by  giving  one 
after  another  its  component  parts  in  their  finished  forms ; since 
if  no  outline  pre-exists  in  the  mind  of  the  recipient,  these  com- 
ponent parts  will  not  be  rightly  combined.  The  intended  com- 
bination can  be  made  only  when  the  recipient  has  discovered 
for  himself  how  the  components  are  to  be  arranged.  Much  labor 
has  to  be  gone  through  which  would  have  been  saved  had  a 
general  notion,  however  cloudy,  been  conveyed  before  the  dis- 
tinct and  detailed  delineation  was  commenced. 

That  which  the  reader  has  incidentally  gathered  respecting 
the  nature  of  Evolution  from  the  foregoing  sections,  he  may 
thus  advantageously  use  as  a rude  sketch,  enabling  him  to  seize 
the  relations  among  the  several  parts  of  the  enlarged  picture  as 
they  are  worked  out  before  him.  He  will  constantly  bear  in 
mind  that  the  total  history  of  every  sensible  existence  is  included 
in  its  Evolution  and  Dissolution;  which  last  process  we  leave 
for  the  present  out  of  consideration.  He  will  remember  that 
whatever  aspect  of  it-  we  are  for  the  moment  considering,  Evolu- 
tion is  always  to  be  regarded  as  fundamentally  an  integration 
of  Matter  and  dissipation  of  Motion,  which  may  be,  and  usually 
is,  accompanied  incidentally  by  other  transformations  of  Matter 
and  Motion.  And  he  will  everywhere  expect  to  find  that  the 
primary  redistribution  ends  in  forming  aggregates  which  are 
simple  where  it  is  rapid,  but  which  become  compound  in  pro- 
portion as  its  slowness  allows  the  effects  of  secondary  redistribu- 
tions to  accumulate. 

§ 106.  There  is  much  difficulty  in  tracing  out  transforma- 
tions so  vast,  so  varied,  and  so  intricate  as  those  now  to  be 
entered  upon.  Besides  having  to  deal  with  concrete  phenomena 
of  all  orders,  we  have  to  deal  with  each  group  of  phenomena 
under  several  aspects,  no  one  of  which  can  be  fully  understood 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPOUND  EVOLUTION 


265 


apart  from  the  rest  and  no  one  of  which  can  be  studied  simul- 
taneously with  the  rest.  Already  we  have  seen  that  during 
Evolution  two  great  classes  of  changes  are  going  on  together ; and 
we  will  presently  see  that  the  second  of  these  great  classes  is 
redivisible.  Entangled  with  one  another  as  all  these  changes 
are,  explanation  of  any  one  class  or  order  involves  direct  or 
indirect  reference  to  others  not  yet  explained.  We  have  nothing 
for  it  but  to  make  the  best  practicable  compromise. 

It  will  be  most  convenient  to  devote  the  next  chapter  to  a 
detailed  account  of  Evolution  under  its  primary  aspect;  tacitly 
recognizing  its  secondary  aspects  only  so  far  as  the  exposition 
necessitates. 

The  succeeding  two  chapters;,  occupied  exclusively  with  the 
secondary  redistributions,  will  make  no  reference  to  the  primary 
redistribution  beyond  that  which  is  unavoidable : each  being  also 
limited  to  one  particular  trait  of  the  secondary  redistributions. 

In  a further  chapter  will  be  treated  a third,  and  still  more 
distinct,  character  of  the  secondary  redistributions. 


26G 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION. 

§ 107.  Deduction  has  now  to  be  verified  by  induction.  Thus 
far  the  argument  has  been  that  all  sensible  existences  must , 
in  some  way  or  other  and  at  some  time  or  other,  reach  their 
concrete  shapes  through  processes  of  concentration;  and  such 
facts  as  have  been  named  have  been  named  merely  to  clarify  the 
perception  of  this  necessity.  But  we  cannot  be  said  to  have 
arrived  at  that  unified  knowledge  constituting  Philosophy,  until 
we  have  seen  how  existences  of  all  orders  do  exhibit  a progressive 
integration  of  Matter  and  concomitant  loss  of  Motion.  Tracing, 
so  far  as  we  may  by  observation  and  inference,  the  objects  dealt 
with  by  the  Astronomer  and  the  Geologist,  as  well  as  those  which 
Biology,  Psychology  and  Sociology  treat  of,  we  have  to  consider 
what  direct  proof  there  is  that  the  Cosmos,  in  general  and  in 
detail,  conforms  to  this  law. 

In  doing  this,  manifestations  of  the  law  more  involved  than 
those  hitherto  indicated,  will  chiefly  occupy  us.  Throughout 
the  classes  of  facts  successively  contemplated,  our  attention  will 
be  directed  not  so  much  to  the  truth  that  every  aggregate 
has  undergone,  or  is  undergoing,  integration,  as  to  the  further 
truth  that  in  every  more  or  less  separate  part  of  every  aggregate, 
integration  has  been,  or  is,  in  progress.  Instead  of  simple 
wholes  and  wholes  of  which  the  complexity  has  been  ignored, 
we  have  here  to  deal  with  wholes  as  they  actually  exist  — mostly 
made  up  of  many  members  combined  in  many  ways.  And  in 
them  we  shall  have  to  trace  the  transformation  as  displayed 
under  several  forms  — a passage  of  the  total  mass  from  a more 
diffused  to  a more  consolidated  state ; a concurrent  similar  pass- 
age in  every  portion  of  it  that  comes  to  have  a distinguishable 
individuality ; and  a simultaneous  increase  of  combination  among 
such  individuated  portions. 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 


267 


§ 108.  Our  Sidereal  System  by  its  general  form,  by  its 
clusters  of  stars  of  all  degrees  of  closeness,  and  by  its  nebulae 
in  all  stages  of  condensation,  gives  us  grounds  to  suspect  that, 
generally  and  locally,  concentration  is  going  on.  Assume  that 
its  matter  has  been,  and  still  is  being,  drawn  together  by 
gravitation,  and  we  have  an  explanation  of  all  its  leading  traits 
of  structure;  from  its  solidified  masses  up  to  its  collections  of 
attenuated  fiocculi  barely  discernible  by  the  most  powerful 
telescopes,  from  its  double  stars  up  to  such  complex  aggregates 
as  the  nubecuhe.  Without  dwelling  on  this  evidence,  however, 
let  us  pass  to  the  case  of  the  Solar  System. 

The  belief,  for  which  there  are  so  many  reasons,  that  this 
has  had  a nebular  genesis,  is  the  belief  that  it  has  arisen  by 
the  integration  of  matter  and  concomitant  loss  of  motion. 
Evolution,  under  its  primary  aspect,  is  illustrated  most  simply 
and  clearly  by  this  passage  of  the  Solar  System  from  a widely 
diffused  incoherent  state  to  a consolidated  coherent  state.  While, 
according  to  the  nebular  hypothesis,  there  has  been  going  on 
this  gradual  concentration  of  the  Solar  System  as  an  aggregate, 
there  has  been  a simultaneous  concentration  of  each  partially- 
independent  member.  The  substance  of  every  planet  in  passing 
through  its  stages  of  nebulous  ring,  gaseous  spheroid,  liquid 
spheroid,  and  spheroid  externally  solidified,  has  in  essentials, 
paralleled  the  changes  gone  through  by  the  general  mass;  and 
every  satellite  has  done  the  like.  Moreover,  at  the  same  time 
that  the  matter  of  the  whole,  as  well  as  the  matter  of  each 
partially-independent  part,  has  been  thus  integrating,  there 
has  been  the  further  integration  implied  by  increasing  com- 
bination among  the  parts.  The  satellites  of  each  planet  are 
linked  with  their  primary  into  a balanced  cluster;  while  the 
planets  and  their  satellites  form  with  the  Sun  a compound 
group  of  which  the  members  are  more  strongly  bound  up 
with  one  another  than  were  the  far-spread  portions  of  the 
nebulous  medium  out  of  which  they  arose. 

Even  apart  from  the  nebular  hypothesis,  the  Solar  System 
furnishes  evidence  having  a like  general  meaning.  Not  to 
make  much  of  the  meteoric  matter  perpetually  being  added 
to  the  mass  of  the  Earth,  and  probably  to  the  masses  of 
other  planets,  as  well  as,  in  larger  quantities,  to  the  mass 
of  the  Sun,  it  will  suffice  to  name  two  generally-admitted 


268 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


instances.  The  one  is  the  appreciable  retardation  of  comets 
by  the  ethereal  medium,  and  the  inferred  retardation  of 
planets  — a process  which,  in  time,  must  bring  comets,  and 
eventually  planets,  into  the  Sun.  The  other  is  the  Sun’s  still- 
continued  loss  of  motion  in  the  shape  of  radiated  heat;  accom- 
panying the  still-continued  integration  of  his  mass. 

§ 109.  To  geologic  evolution  we  pass  without  break  from 
the  evolution  which,  for  convenience,  we  separate  as  astro- 
nomic. The  history  of  the  Earth,  as  traced  out  from  the 
structure  of  its  crust,  carries  us  back  to  that  molten  state 
which  the  nebular  hypothesis  implies;  and,  as  before  pointed 
out  (§  69),  the  changes  classed  as  igneous  are  the  accompani- 
ments of  the  progressing  consolidation  of  the  Earth’s  sub- 
stance and  accompanying  loss  of  its  contained  motion.  Both 
the  general  and  the  local  effects  may  be  briefly  exemplified. 

Leaving  behind  the  period  when  the  more  volatile  elements 
now  existing  as  solids  were  kept  by  the  high  temperature  in  a 
gaseous  form,  we  may  begin  with  the  fact  that  until  the 
Earth’s  surface  had  cooled  down  below  212°,  the  vast  mass  of 
water  at  present  covering  three-fifths  of  it  must  have  existed 
as  vapor.  This  enormous  volume  of  disintegrated  liquid  became 
integrated  as  fast  as  the  dissipation  of  the  Earth’s  contained 
motion  allowed;  leaving,  at  length,  a comparatively  small  por- 
tion unintegrated,  which  would  be  far  smaller  but  for  the 
unceasing  absorption  of  molecular  motion  from  the  Sun.  In 
the  formation  of  the  Earth’s  crust  we  have  a similar  change 
similarly  caused.  The  passage  from  a thin  solid  film,  every- 
where fissured  and  movable  on  the  subjacent  molten  matter, 
to  a crust  so  thick  and  strong  as  to  be  but  now  and  then 
very  slightly  dislocated  by  disturbing  forces,  illustrates  the 
process.  And  while,  in  this  superficial  solidification,  we  see 
under  one  form  how  concentration  accompanies  loss  of  con- 
tained motion,  we  see  it  under  another  form  in  that  diminution 
of  the  Earth’s  bulk  implied  by  superficial  corrugation. 

Local  or  secondary  integrations  have  advanced  along  with 
this  general  integration.  A molten  spheroid  merely  skinned 
over  with  solid  matter  could  have  presented  nothing  beyond 
small  patches  of  land  and  water.  Differences  of  elevation 
great  enough  to  form  islands  of  considerable  size,  imply  a 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 


269 


crust  of  some  rigidity;  and  only  as  the  crusi  grew  thick  could 
the  land  be  united  into  continents  divided  by  oceans.  So,  too, 
with  the  more  striking  elevations.  The  collapse  of  a thin  crust 
round  its  cooling  and  contracting  contents,  would  throw  it  into 
low  ridges : it  must  have  acquired  a relatively  great  depth  and 
strength  before  extensive  mountain  systems  of  vast  elevation 
became  possible.  In  sedimentary  changes,  also,  a like  progress 
is  inferable.  Denudation  acting  on  the  small  surfaces  exposed 
during  early  stages,  would  produce  but  small  local  deposits. 
The  collection  of  detritus  into  strata  of  great  extent,  and  the 
union  of  such  strata  into  extensive  “ systems,”  imply  wide  sur- 
faces of  land  and  water,  as  well  as  subsidences  great,  in  both 
area  and  depth;  whence  it  follows  that  integrations  of  this 
order  must  have  grown  more  pronounced  as  the  Earth’s  crust 
thickened. 

§ 110.  Already  we  have  recognized  the  fact  that  organic 
evolution  is  primarily  the  formation  of  an  aggregate,  by  the 
continued  incorporation  of  matter  previously  spread  through 
a wider  space.  Merely  reminding  the  reader  that  every  plant 
grows  by  concentrating  in  itself  elements  that  were  before 
diffused  as  gases,  and  that  every  animal  grows  by  reconcen- 
trating these  elements  previously  dispersed  in  surrounding 
plants  and  animals;  it  will  be  here  proper  to  complete  the 
conception  by  pointing  out  that  the  early  history  of  a plant 
or  animal,  still  more  clearly  than  its  later  history,  shows  us 
this  fundamental  process.  For  the  microscopic  germ  of  each 
organism  undergoes,  for  a long  time,  no  other  change  than 
that  implied  by  absorption  of  nutriment.  Cells  imbedded  in 
the  stroma  of  an  ovarium,  become  ova  by  little  else  than  con- 
tinued growth  at  the  expense  of  adjacent  materials.  And 
when,  after  fertilization,  a more  active  evolution  commences, 
its  most  conspicuous  trait  is  the  drawing-in,  to  a germinal 
centre,  of  the  substance  which  the  ovum  contains. 

Here,  however,  our  attention  must  be  directed  mainly  to 
the  secondary  integrations  which  habitually  accompany  the 
primary  integration.  We  have  to  observe  how,  along  with 
the  formation  of  a larger  mass  of  matter,  there  goes  on  a 
drawing  together  and  consolidation  of  the  matter  into  parts, 
as  well  as  an  increasing-intimate  combination  of  parts.  In 


270 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  mammalian  embryo,  the  heart,  at  first  a long  pulsating 
blood-vessel,  by  and  by  twists  upon  itself  and  integrates.  The 
bile-cells  constituting  the  rudimentary  liver,  do  not  simply 
become  different  from  the  wall  of  the  intestine  in  which  they 
at  first  lie;  but,  as  they  accumulate,  they  simultaneously  diverge 
from  it  and  consolidate  into  an  organ.  The  anterior  segments 
of  the  cerebro-spinal  axis,  which  are  at  first  continuous  with 
the  rest,  and  distinguished  only  by  their  larger  size,  undergo 
a gradual  union ; and  at  the  same  time  the  resulting  head 
folds  into  a mass  clearly  marked  off  from  the  rest  of  the 
vertebral  column.  The  like  process,  variously  exemplified  in 
other  organs,  is  meanwhile  exhibited  by  the  body  as  a whole; 
which  becomes  integrated  somewhat  in  the  same  way  that  an 
outspread  handkerchief  and  its  contents  become  integrated 
when  its  edges  are  drawn  in  and  fastened  to  make  a bundle. 
Analogous  changes  go  on  long  after  birth,  and  continue  even 
up  to  old  age.  In  man,  that  solidification  of  the  bony  frame- 
work which,  during  childhood,  is  seen  in  the  coalescence  of 
portions  of  the  same  bone  ossified  from  different  centres,  is 
afterward  seen  in  the  coalescence  of  bones  that  were  originally 
distinct.  The  appendages  of  the  vertebrae  unite  with  the 

vertebral  centres  to  which  they  belong  — a change  not  com- 
pleted until  toward  thirty.  At  the  same  time  the  epiphyses, 
formed  separately  from  the  main  bodies  of  their  respective 
bones,  have  their  cartilaginous  connections  turned  into  osseous 
ones  — are  fused  to  the  masses  beneath  them.  The  component 
vertebrae  of  the  sacrum,  which  remain  separate  till  about  the 
sixteenth  year,  then  begin  to  unite;  and  in  ten  or  a dozen 
years  more  their  union  is  complete.  Still  later  occurs  the 
coalescence  of  the  coccygeal  vertebrae ; and  there  are  some  other 
bony  unions  which  remain  unfinished  unless  advanced  age  is 
reached.  To  which  add  that  the  increase  of  density  and 

toughness,  going  on  throughout  the  tissues  in  general  during 
life,  is  the  formation  of  a more  highly  integrated  substance. 

The  species  of  change  thus  illustrated  under  several  aspects 
in  the  unfolding  human  body,  may  be  traced  in  all  animals. 
That  mode  of  it  which  consists  in  the  union  of  similar  parts 
originally  separate,  has  been  described  by  Milne-Edwards  and 
others,  as  exhibited  in  various  of  the  Invertelrata ; though  it 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  included  by  them  as  an  essential 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 


271 


peculiarity  in  the  process  of  organic  development.  We  shall, 
however,  see  clearly  that  local  integration  is  an  all-important 
part  of  this  process,  when  we  find  it  displayed  not  only  in  the 
successive  stages  passed  through  by  every  embryo,  hut  also  in 
ascending  from  the  lower  creatures  to  the  higher.  As  mani- 
fested in  either  way,  it  goes  on  both  longitudinally  and  trans- 
versely: under  which  different  forms  we  may,  indeed,  most 
conveniently  consider  it.  Of  longitudinal  integration,  the  sub- 
kingdom Annulosa  supplies  abundant  examples.  Its  lower 
members,  such  as  worms  and  myriapods,  are  mostly  character- 
ized by  the  great  number  of  segments  composing  them ; reaching 
in  some  cases  to  several  hundreds.  But  in  the  higher  divisions 
— crustaceans,  insects,  and  spiders  — we  find  this  number  re- 
duced down  to  twenty-two,  thirteen,  or  even  fewer;  while, 
accompanying  the  reduction,  there  is  a shortening  or  integration 
of  the  whole  body,  reaching  its  extreme  in  the  crab  and  the 
spider.  The  significance  of  these  contrasts,  as  bearing  on  the 
general  doctrine  of  Evolution,  will  be  seen  when  it  is  pointed 
out  that  they  are  parallel  to  those  which  arise  during  the 
development  of  individual  annulose  animals.  In  the  lobster, 
the  head  and  thorax  form  one  compact  box,  made  by  the 
union  of  a number  of  segments  which  in  the  embryo  were 
separable.  Similarly,  the  butterfly  shows  us  segments  so  much 
more  closely  united  than  they  were  in  the  caterpillar,  as  to  be, 
some  of  them,  no  longer  distinguishable  from  one  another.  The 
Vertebrata  again,  throughout  their  successively  higher  classes, 
furnish  like  instances  of  longitudinal  union.  In  most  fishes, 
and  in  reptiles  that  have  no  limbs,  none  of  the  vertebrae  coalesce. 
In  most  mammals  and  in  birds,  a variable  number  of  vertebrae 
become  fused  together  to  form  the  sacrum;  and  in  the  higher 
apes  and  in  man,  the  caudal  vertebrae  also  lose  their  separate 
individualities  in  a single  os  coccygis.  That  which  we  may 
distinguish  as  transverse  integration , is  well  illustrated  among 
the  Annulosa  in  the  development  of  the  nervous  system.  Leav- 
ing out  those  most  degraded  forms  which  do  not  present 
distinct  ganglia,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  lower  annulose 
animals,  in  common  with  the  larvaa  of  the  higher,  are  severally 
characterized  by  a double  chain  of  ganglia  running  from  end 
to  end  of  the  body;  while  in  the  more  perfectly-formed  annu- 
lose animals,  this  double  chain  becomes  united  into  a single 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


chain.  Mr.  Newport  has  described  the  course  of  this  concen- 
tration as  exhibited  in  insects;  and  by  Rathke  it  has  been 
traced  in  crustaceans.  During  the  early  stages  of  the  Astacus 
fluviatilis,  or  common  crayfish,  there  is  a pair  of  separate  ganglia 
.to  each  ring.  Of  the  fourteen  pairs  belonging  to  the  head 
and  thorax,  the  three  pairs  in  advance  of  the  mouth  consolidate 
into  one  mass  to  form  the  brain  or  cephalic  ganglion.  Mean- 
while, out  of  the  remainder,  the  first  six  pairs  severally  unite 
in  the  median  line,  while  the  rest  remain  more  or  less  separate. 
Of  these  six  double  ganglia  thus  formed,  the  anterior  four 
coalesce  into  one  mass ; the  remaining  two  coalesce  into  another 
mass;  and  then  these  two  masses  coalesce  into  one.  Here  we 
see  longitudinal  and  transverse  integration  going  on  simul- 
taneously; and  in  the  highest  crustaceans  they  are  both  carried 
still  further.  The  Vertebrata  clearly  exhibit  transverse  inte- 
gration in  the  development  of  the  generative  system.  The 
lowest  mammals  — the  Monotremata  — in  common  with  birds, 
to  which  they  are  in  many  respects  allied,  have  oviducts  which 
toward  their  lower  extremities  are  dilated  into  cavities,  severally 
performing  in  an  imperfect  way  the  function  of  a uterus.  “ In 
the  Marsupialia  there  is  a closer  approximation  of  the  two  lateral 
sets  of  organs  on  the  median  .line ; for  the  oviducts  converge 
toward  one  another  and  meet  (without  coalescing)  on  the 
median  line;  so  that  their  uterine  dilatations  are  in  contact 
with  each  other,  forming  a true  ‘ double  uterus.’  ...  As 
we  ascend  the  series  of  ‘ placental  ’ mammals,  we  find  the 
lateral  coalescence  becoming  more  and  more  complete. 

In  many  of  the  Rodentia  the  uterus  still  remains  completely 
divided  into  two  lateral  halves;  while  in  others  these  coalesce 
at  their  lower  portions,  forming  a rudiment  of  the  true  e body  ’ 
of  the  uterus  in  the  human  subject.  This  part  increases  at 
the  expense  of  the  lateral  ‘ cornua  ’ in  the  higher  herbivora 
and  carnivora;  but  even  in  the  lower  quadrumana  the  uterus 
is  somewhat  cleft  at  its  summit.”1 

Under  the  head  of  organic  integrations,  there  remain  to  be 
noted  some  which  do  not  occur  within  the  limits  of  one 
organism,  and  which  only  in  an  indirect  way  involve  concen- 
tration of  matter  and  dissipation  of  motion.  These  are  the 
integrations  by  which  organisms  are  made  dependent  on  one 

1 Carpenter’s  Prin.  of  Comp.  Phys.,  p.  617. 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 


273 


another.  We  may  set  down  two  kinds  of  them  — those  which 
occur  within  the  same  species,  and  those  which  occur  among 
different  species.  More  or  less  of  the  gregarious  tendency  is 
general  in  animals ; and  when  it  is  marked,  there  is,  in  addition 
to  simple  aggregation,  a certain  degree  of  combination.  Crea- 
tures that  hunt  in  packs,  or  that  have  sentinels,  or  that  are 
governed  by  leaders,  form  bodies  partially  united  by  co-opera- 
tion. Among  polygamous  mammals  and  birds  this  mutual 
dependence  is  closer;  and  the  social  insects  show  us  assemblages 
of  individuals  of  a still  more  consolidated  character:  some  of 
them  having  carried  the  consolidation  so  far  that  the  individuals 
cannot  exist  if  separated.  How  organisms  in  general  are 
mutually  dependent,  and  in  that  sense  integrated,  we  shall 
see  on  remembering  — first,  that  while  all  animals  live  directly 
or  indirectly  on  plants,  plants  live  on  the  carbonic  acid 
excreted  by  animals ; second,  that  among  animals  the  flesh-eaters 
cannot  exist  without  the  plant-eaters;  third,  that  a large  pro- 
portion of  plants  can  continue  their  respective  races  only  by 
the  help  of  insects,  and  that  in  many  cases  particular  plants 
need  particular  insects.  Without  detailing  the  more  complex 
connections,  which  Mr.  Darwin  has  so  beautifully  illustrated, 
it  will  suffice  to  say  that  the  Flora  and  Fauna  in  each  habitat, 
constitute  an  aggregate  so  far  integrated  that  many  of  its 
species  die  out  if  placed  amid  the  plants  and  animals  of 
another  habitat.  And  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  this  integra- 
tion, too,  increases  as  organic  evolution  progresses. 

§ 111.  The  phenomena  set  down  in  the  foregoing  para- 
graph are  introductory  to  others  of  a higher  order,  with  which 
they  ought,  perhaps,  in  strictness,  to  be  grouped  — phenomena 
which,  for  want  of  a better  word,  we  may  term  super-organic. 
Inorganic  bodies  present  us  with  certain  facts.  Certain  other 
facts,  mostly  of  a more  involved  kind,  are  presented  by  organic 
bodies.  There  remain  yet  further  facts,  not  presented  by  any 
organic  body  taken  singly;  but  which  result  from  the  actions 
of  aggregated  organic  bodies  on  one  another  and  on  inorganic 
bodies.  Though  phenomena  of  this  order  are,  as  we  see,  fore- 
shadowed among  inferior  organisms,  they  become  so  extremely 
conspicuous  in  mankind  as  socially  united,  that  practically  we 
may  consider  them  to  commence  here.  • 


274 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


In  the  social  organism  integrative  changes  are  clearly  and 
abundantly  exemplified.  Uncivilized  societies  display  them 
when  wandering  families,  such  as  we  see  among  Bushmen, 
join  into  tribes  of  considerable  numbers.  A further  progress 
of  like  nature  is  everywhere  manifested  in  the  subjugation  of 
weaker  tribes  by  stronger  ones;  and  in  the  subordination  of 
their  respective  chiefs  to  the  conquering  chief.  The  combina- 
tions thus  resulting,  which,  among  aboriginal  races,  are  being 
continually  formed  and  continually  broken  up,  become,  among 
superior  races,  relatively  permanent.  If  we  trace  the  stages 
through  which  our  own  society,  or  any  adjacent  one,  has 
passed,  we  see  this  unification  from  time  to  time  repeated  on  a 
larger  scale  and  gaining  in  stability.  The  aggregation  of  juniors 
and  the  children  of  juniors  under  elders  and  the  children  of 
elders;  the  consequent  establishment  of  groups  of  vassals  bound 
to  their  respective  nobles ; the  subsequent  subordination  of 
groups  of  inferior  nobles  to  dukes  or  earls;  and  the  still  later 
growth  of  the  kingly  power  over  dukes  and  earls;  are  so  many 
instances  of  increasing  consolidation.  This  process  through 
which  petty  tenures  are  aggregated  in  feuds,  feuds  into  prov- 
inces, provinces  into  kingdoms,  and  finally  contiguous  kingdoms 
into  a single  one,  slowly  completes  itself  by  destroying  the 
original  lines  of  demarcation.  And  it  may  be  further  remarked 
of  the  European  nations  as  a whole,  that  in  the  tendency  to 
form  alliances  more  or  less  lasting,  in  the  restraining  influences 
exercised  by  the  several  governments  over  one  another,  in  the 
system,  now  becoming  customary,  of  settling  international  dis- 
putes by  Congresses,  as  well  as  in  the  breaking  down  of 
commercial  barriers  and  the  increasing  facilities  of  communica- 
tion, we  may  trace  the  beginnings  of  a European  federation  ■ — - 
a still  large  integration  than  any  now  established. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  these  external  unions  of  groups  with 
groups,  and  of  the  compound  groups  with  one  another,  that 
the  general  law  is  exemplified.  It  is  exemplified  also  in 
unions  that  take  place  internally,  as  the  groups  become  more 
highly  organized.  There  are  two  orders  of  these,  which  may 
be  broadly  distinguished  as  regulative  and  operative.  A civilized 
society  is  made  unlike  a barbarous  one  by  the  establishment 
of  regulative  classes  — governmental,  administrative,  military, 
ecclesiastical,  legal,  etc.£  which,  while  they  have  their  several 


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275 


special  bonds  of  union,  constituting  them  sub-classes,  are  also 
held  together  as  a general  class  by  a certain  community  of 
privileges,  of  blood,  of  education,  of  intercourse.  In  some 
societies,  fully  developed  after  their  particular  types,  this  con- 
solidation into  castes,  and  this  union  among  the  upper  castes 
by  separation  from  the  lower,  eventually  grow  very  decided: 
to  be  afterward  rendered  less  decided,  only  in  cases  of  social 
metamorphosis  caused  by  the  industrial  regime.  The  integra- 
tions that  accompany  the  operative  or  industrial  organization, 
later  in  origin,  are  not  merely  of  this  indirect  kind,  but  they 
are  also  direct  — they  show  us  physical  approach.  We  have 
integrations  consequent  on  the  simple  growth  of  adjacent  parts 
performing  like  functions;  as,  for  instance,  the  junction  of 
Manchester  with  its  calico-weaving  suburbs.  We  have  other 
integrations  that  arise  when,  out  of  several  places  producing  a 
particular  commodity,  one  monopolizing  more  and  more  of 
the  business,  draws  to  it  masters  and  workers,  and  leaves  the 
other  places  to  dwindle ; as  witness  the  growth  of  the  Yorkshire 
cloth-districts  at  the  expense  of  those  in  the  West  of  England; 
or  the  absorption  by  Staffordshire  of  the  pottery-manufacture, 
and  the  consequent  decay  of  the  establishments  that  once 
flourished  at  Derby  and  elsewhere.  We  have  those  more  special 
integrations  that  arise  within  the  same  city;  whence  result  the 
concentration  of  publishers  in  Paternoster  Row,  of  corn- 
merchants  about  Mark  Lane,  of  civil  engineers  in  Great  George 
Street,  of  bankers  in  the  centre  of  the  City.  Industrial  com- 
binations that  consist,  not  in  the  approximation  or  fusion  of 
parts,  but  in  the  establishment  of  common  centres  of  connection, 
are  exhibited  in  the  Bank  clearing-house  and  the  Railway 
clearing-house.  While  of  yet  another  species  are  those  unions 
which  bring  into  relation  the  more  or  less  dispersed  citizens 
who  are  occupied  in  like  ways;  as  traders  are  brought  by  the 
Exchange,  and  as  are  professional  men  by  institutes  like  those 
of  Civil  Engineers,  Architects,  etc. 

At  first  sight  these  seem  to  he  the  last  of  our  instances. 
Having  followed  up  the  general  law  to  social  aggregates,  there 
apparently  remain  no  other  aggregates  to  which  it  can  apply. 
This  however  is  not  true.  Among  what  we  have  above  dis- 
tinguished as  super-organic  phenomena,  we  shall  find  sundry 
groups  of  very  remarkable  and  interesting  illustrations.  Though 


276 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


evolution  of  the  various  products  of  human  activities  cannot 
be  said  directly  to  exemplify  the  integration  of  matter  and 
dissipation  of  motion;,  yet  they  exemplify  it  indirectly.  For 
the  progress  of  Language,  of  Science,  and  of  the  Arts,  industrial 
and  aesthetic,  is  an  objective  register  of  subjective  changes. 
Alterations  of  structure  in  human  beings,  and  concomitant  altera- 
tions of  structure  in  aggregates  of  human  beings,  jointly  produce 
corresponding  alterations  of  structure  in  all  those  things  which 
humanity  creates.  As  in  the  changed  impress  on  the  wax,  we 
read  a change  in  the  seal;  so  in  the  integrations  of  advancing 
Language,  Science,  and  Art,  we  see  reflected  certain  integra- 
tions of  advancing  human  structure,  individual  and  social.  A 
section  must  be  devoted  to  each  group. 

§ 112.  Among  uncivilized  races,  the  many-syllabled  names 
used  for  not  uncommon  objects,  as  well  as  the  descriptive 
character  of  proper  names,  show  us  that  the  words  used  for  the 
less-familiar  things  are  formed  by  compounding  the  words  used 
for  the  more  familiar  things.  This  process  of  composition  is 
sometimes  found  in  its  incipient  stage  — a stage  in  which  the 
component  words  are  temporarily  united  to  signify  some  un- 
named object,  and,  from  lack  of  frequent  use,  do  not  per- 
manently cohere.  But  in  the  majority  of  inferior  languages, 
the  process  of  “ agglutination,”  as  it  is  called,  has  gone  far 
enough  to  produce  considerable  stability  in  the  compound  words : 
there  is  a manifest  integration.  How  small  is  the  degree  of 
this  integration,  however,  when  compared  with  that  reached 
in  well-developed  languages,  is  shown  both  by  the  great  length 
of  the  compound  words  used  for  things  and  acts  of  constant 
occurrence,  and  by  the  separableness  of  their  elements.  Certain 
North- American  tongues  illustrate  this  very  well.  In  a Ricaree 
vocabulary  extending  to  fifty  names  of  common  objects,  which 
in  English  are  nearly  all  expressed  by  single  syllables,  there 
is  not  one  monosyllabic  word ; and  in  the  nearly-allied  vocabulary 
of  the  Pawnees,  the  names  for  these  same  common  objects  are 
monosyllabic  in  but  two  instances.  Things  so  familiar  to  these 
hunting  tribes  as  dog  and  bow , are,  in  the  Pawnee  language, 
ashahish  and  teeragish ; the  hand  and  the  eyes  are  respectively 
iksheeree  and  Iceereehoo ; for  day  the  term  is  shaleoorooeeshairet , 
and  for  devil  it  is  tsaheelcshlcalcooraiwah ; while  the  numerals  are 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 


277 


composed  of  from  two  syllables  up  to  five,  and  in  Ricaree  up 
to  seven.  That  the  great  length  of  these  familiar  words  implies 
a low  degree  of  development,  and  that  in  the  formation  of 
higher  languages  out  of  lower  there  is  a progressive  integration, 
which  reduces  the  polysyllables  to  dissyllables  and  monosyllables, 
is  an  inference  confirmed  by  the  history  of  our  own  language. 
Anglo-Saxon  steorra  has  been  in  course  of  time  consolidated 
into  English  star,  mona  into  moon , and  nama  into  name.  The 
transition  through  the  intermediate  semi-Saxon  is  clearly  trace- 
able. Sunu  became  in  semi-Saxon  sune,  and  in  English  son : 
the  final  e of  sune  being  an  evanescent  form  of  the  original  u. 
The  change  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  plural,  formed  by  the  distinct 
syllable  as,  to  our  plural  formed  by  the  appended  consonant  s, 
shows  us  the  same  thing:  smithas  in  becoming  smiths,  and  endas 
in  becoming  ends,  illustrate  progressive  coalescence.  So,  too, 
does  the  disappearance  of  the  terminal  an  in  the  infinitive  mood 
of  verbs;  as  shown  in  the  transition  from  the  Anglo-Saxon 
cuman  to  the  semi-Saxon  cumme,  and  to  the  English  come. 
Moreover  the  process  has  been  slowly  going  on,  even  since  what 
we  distinguish  as  English  was  formed.  In  Elizabeth’s  time, 
verbs  were  still  very  frequently  pluralized  by  the  addition  of 
en  — we  tell  was  we  tellen;  and  in  some  rural  districts  this 
form  of  speech  may  even  now  be  heard.  In  like  manner  the 
terminal  ed  of  the  past  tense  has  united  with  the  word  it 
modifies.  Burn-ed  has  in  pronunciation  become  burnt;  and 
even  in  writing  the  terminal  t has  in  some  cases  taken  the 
place  of  the  ed.  Only  where  antique  forms  in  general  are 
adhered  to,  as  in  the  Church  service,  is  the  distinctness  of  this 
inflection  still  maintained.  Further,  we  see  that  the  com- 
pound vowels  have  been  in  many  cases  fused  into  single  vowels. 
That  in  bread  the  e and  a were  originally  both  sounded,  is 
proved  by  the  fact  that  they  are  still  so  sounded  in  parts  where 
old  habits  linger.  We,  however,  have  contracted  the  pro- 
nunciation into  bred ; and  we  have  made  like  changes  in  many 
other  common  words.  Lastly,  let  it  be  noted  that  where  the 
frequency  of  repetition  is  greatest,  the  process  is  carried 
furthest;  as  instance  the  contraction  of  lord  (originally  laford) 
into  lud  in  the  mouths  of  barristers;  and,  still  better,  the 
coalescence  of  God  be  with  you  into  Good  bye. 


278 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


Besides  exhibiting  in  this  way  the  integrative  process.  Lan- 
guage equally  exhibits  it  throughout  all  grammatical  develop- 
ment. The  lowest  kinds  of  human  speech,  having  merely  nouns 
and  verbs  without  inflections  to  them,  manifestly  permit  no 
such  close  union  of  the  elements  of  a proposition  as  results 
when  the  relations  are  marked  either  by  inflections  or  by 
connective  words.  Such  speech  is  necessarily  what  we  sig- 
nificantly call  “ incoherent.”  To  a considerable  extent,  inco- 
herence is  seen  in  the  Chinese  language.  “ If,  instead  of  saying 
I go  to  London,  figs  come  from  Turkey , the  sun  shines  through 
the  air,  we  said,  I go  end  London,  fgs  come  origin  Turkey,  the 
sun  shines  passage  air , we  should  discourse  after  the  manner 
of  the  Chinese.”  From  this  “ aptotic  ” form,  there  is  clear 
evidence  of  a transition,  by  coalescence,  to  a form  in  which 
the  connections  of  words  are  expressed  by  the  addition  to  them 
of  certain  inflectional  words.  “ In  Languages  like  the  Chinese,” 
remarks  Dr.  Latham,  “ the  separate  words  most  in  use  to 
express  relation  may  become  adjuncts  or  annexes.”  To  this 
he  adds  the  fact  that  “ the  numerous  inflectional  languages  fall 
into  two  classes.  In  one,  the  inflections  have  no  appearance  of 
having  been  separate  words.  In  the  other,  their  origin  as 
separate  words  is  demonstrable.”  From  which  the  inference 
drawn  is,  that  the  “ aptotic  ” languages,  by  the  more  and  more 
constant  use  of  adjuncts,  gave  rise  to  the  “ agglutinate  ” lan- 
guages, or  those  in  which  the  original  separateness  of  the 
inflectional  parts  can  be  traced ; and  that  out  of  these,  by  further 
use,  arose  the  “ amalgamate  ” languages,  or  those  in  which  the 
original  separateness  of  the  inflectional  parts  can  no  longer  be 
traced.  Strongly  corroborative  of  this  inference  is  the  unques- 
tionable fact,  that  by  such  a process  there  have  grown  out  of 
the  amalgamate  languages,  the  “ anaptotic  ” languages ; of 
which  our  own  is  the  most  perfect  example  — languages  in 
which,  by  further  consolidation,  inflections  have  almost  dis- 
appeared, while,  to  express  the  verbal  relations,  certain  new 
kinds  of  words  have  been  developed.  When  we  see  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  inflections  gradually  lost  by  contraction  during  the 
development  of  English,  and,  though  to  a less  degree,  the  Latin 
inflections  dwindling  away  during  the  development  of  French, 
we  cannot  deny  that  grammatical  structure  is  modified  by 
integration;  and  seeing  how  clearly  the  earlier  stages  of  gram- 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 


279 


matical  structure  are  explained  by  it,  we  can  scarcely  doubt 
that  it  has  been  going  on  from  the  first. 

In  proportion  to  the  degree  of  this  integration,  is  the  extent 
to  which  integration  of  another  order  is  carried.  Aptotic  lan- 
guages are,  as  already  pointed  out,  necessarily  incoherent  — the 
elements  of  a proposition  cannot  be  completely  tied  into  a 
whole.  But  as  fast  as  coalescence  produces  inflected  words,  it 
becomes  possible  to  unite  them  into  sentences  of  which  the 
parts  are  so  mutually  dependent  that  no  considerable  change 
can  be  made  without  destroying  the  meaning.  Yet  a further 
stage  in  this  process  may  be  noted.  After  the  development 
of  those  grammatical  forms  which  make  definite  statements 
possible,  we  do  not  at  first  find  them  used  to  express  anything 
beyond  statements  of  a simple  kind.  A single  subject  with 
a single  predicate,  accompanied  by  but  few  qualifying  terms, 
are  usually  all.  If  we  compare,  for  instance,  the  Hebrew 
Scriptures  with  writings  of  modern  times,  a marked  difference 
of  aggregation  among  the  groups  of  words,  is  visible.  In  the 
number  of  subordinate  propositions  which  accompany  the  prin- 
cipal one;  in  the  various  complements  to  subjects  and  predicates; 
and  in  the  numerous  qualifying  clauses  — all  of  them  united 
into  one  complex  whole  — many  sentences  in  modern  compo- 
sitions exhibit  a degree  of  integration  not  to  be  found  in 
ancient  ones. 

§ 113.  The  history  of  Science  presents  facts  of  the  same 
meaning  at  every  step.  Indeed  the  integration  of  groups  of 
like  entities  and  like  relations,  may  be  said  to  constitute  the 
most  conspicuous  part  of  scientific  progress.  A glance  at  the 
classificatory  sciences,  shows  us  that  the  confused  incoherent 
aggregations  which  the  vulgar  make  of  natural  objects,  are 
gradually  rendered  complete  and  compact,  and  bound  up  into 
groups  within  groups.  While,  instead  of  considering  all  marine 
creatures  as  fish,  shell-fish,  and  jelly-fish,  Zoology  establishes 
divisions  and  subdivisions  under  the  heads  Vertebrata , Annu- 
losa,  Mollusca,  etc. ; and  while,  in  place  of  the  wide  and  vague 
assemblage  popularly  described  as  “ creeping  things/’  it  makes 
the  specific  classes  Annelida , Myriopoda , Insecta , Arachnida;  it 
simultaneously  gives  to  these  an  increasing  consolidation.  The 
several  orders  and  genera  of  which  each  consists,  are  arranged 


280 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


according  to  their  affinities  and  tied  together  under  common 
definitions ; at  the  same  time  that,  by  extended  observation 
and  rigorous  criticism,  the  previously  unknown  and  undeterm- 
ined forms  are  integrated  with  their  respective  congeners. 
Nor  is  the  process  less  clearly  manifested  in  those  sciences 
which  have  for  their  subject-matter,  not  classified  objects  but 
classified  relations.  Under  one  of  its  chief  aspects,  scientific 
advance  is  the  advance  of  generalization;  and  generalizing  is 
uniting  into  groups  all  like  co-existences  and  sequences  among 
phenomena.  The  colligation  of  many  concrete  relations  into  a 
generalization  of  the  lowest  order,  exemplifies  this  principle  in 
its  simplest  form ; and  it  is  again  exemplified  in  a more  com- 
plex form  by  the  colligation  of  these  lowest  generalizations  into 
higher  ones,  and  these  into  still  higher  ones.  Year  by  year  are 
established  certain  connections  among  orders  of  phenomena 
that  appear  unallied;  and  those  connections,  multiplying  and 
strengthening,  gradually  bring  the  seemingly  unallied  orders 
under  a common  bond.  When,  for  example,  Humboldt  quotes 
the  saying  of  the  Swiss  — ■“  it  is  going  to  rain  because  we  hear 
the  murmur  of  the  torrents  nearer” — when  he  remarks  the 
relation  between  this  and  an  observation  of  his  own,  that  the 
cataracts  of  the  Orinoco  are  heard  at  a greater  distance  by 
night  than  by  day  — when  he  notes  the  essential  parallelism 
existing  between  these  facts  and  the  fact  that  the  unusual 
visibility  of  remote  objects  is  also  an  indication  of  coming 
rain  — and  when  he  points  out  that  the  common  cause  of 
these  variations  is  the  smaller  hindrance  offered  to  the  passage 
of  both  light  and  sound,  by  media  which  are  comparatively 
homogeneous,  either  in  temperature  or  hygrometric  state;  he 
helps  in  bringing  under  one  generalization  the  phenomena  of 
light  and  those  of  sound.  Experiment  having  shown  that 
these  conform  to  like  laws  of  reflection  and  refraction,  the 
conclusion  that  they  are  both  produced  by  undulations  gains 
probability : there  is  an  incipient  integration  of  two  great 
orders  of  phenomena,  between  which  no  connection  was  sus- 
pected in  times  past.  A still  more  decided  integration  has 
been  of  late  taking  place  between  the  once  independent  sub- 
sciences of  Electricity,  Magnetism,  and  Light. 

The  process  will  manifestly  be  carried  much  further.  Such 
propositions  as  those  set  forth  in  preceding  chapters,  on  “ The 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 


281 


Persistence  of  Force/’  “ The  Transformation  and  Equivalence 
of  Forces,”  “ The  Direction  of  Motion,”  and  “ The  Rhythm 
of  Motion,”  unite  within  single  bonds  phenomena  belonging  to 
all  orders  of  existences.  And  if  there  is  such  a thing  as  that 
which  we  here  understand  by  Philosophy,  there  must  eventually 
be  reached  a universal  integration. 

§ 114.  Nor  do  the  industrial  and  aesthetic  Arts  fail  to 
supply  us  with  equally  conclusive  evidence.  The  progress  from 
rude,  small,  and  simple  tools,  to  perfect,  complex,  and  large 
machines,  is  a progress  in  integration.  Among  what  are  classed 
as  the  mechanical  powers,  the  advance  from  the  lever  to  the 
wheel-and-axle  is  an  advance  from  a simple  agent  to  an  agent 
made  up  of  several  simple  ones.  On  comparing  the  wheel-and- 
axle  or  any  of  the  machines  used  in  early  times  with  those 
used  now,  we  see  that  in  each  of  our  machines  several  of  the 
primitive  machines  are  united  into  one.  A modern  apparatus 
for  spinning  or  weaving,  for  making  stockings  or  lace,  contains 
not  simply  a lever,  an  inclined  plane,  a screw,  a wheel-and-axle, 
joined  together;  but  several  of  each  integrated  into  one  whole. 
Again,  in  early  ages,  when  horse-power  and  man-power  were 
alone  employed,  the  motive  agent  was  not  bound  up  with  the 
tool  moved;  but  the  two  have  now  become  in  many  cases  fused 
together.  The  fire-box  and  boiler  of  a locomotive  are  combined 
with  the  machinery  which  the  steam  works.  A still  more 
extensive  integration  is  exhibited  in  every  factory.  Here  we 
find  a large  number  of  complicated  machines,  all  connected  by 
driving  shafts  with  the  same  steam-engine  — all  united  with 
it  into  one  vast  apparatus. 

Contrast  the  mural  decorations  of  the  Egyptians  and 
Assyrians  with  modern  historical  paintings,  and  there  becomes 
manifest  a great  advance  in  unity  of  composition  — in  the 
subordination  of  the  parts  to  the  whole.  One  of  these  ancient 
frescoes  is,  in  truth,  made  up  of  a number  of  pictures  that 
have  little  mutual  dependence.  The  several  figures  of  which 
each  group  consists,  show  very  imperfectly  by  their  attitudes, 
and  not  at  all  by  their  expressions,  the  relations  in  which  they 
stand  to  each  other:  the  respective  groups  might  be  separated 
with  but  little  loss  of  meaning;  and  the  centre  of  chief  interest, 
which  should  link  all  parts  together,  is  often  inconspicuous. 


282 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


The  same  trait  may  be  noted  in  the  tapestries  of  medieval  days. 
Bepresenting  perhaps  a hunting  scene,  one  of  these  contains 
men,  horses,  dogs,  beasts,  birds,  trees,  and  flowers,  miscel- 
laneously dispersed:  the  living  objects  being  variously  occupied, 
and  mostly  with  no  apparent  consciousness  of  each  other's 
proximity.  But  in  the  paintings  since  produced,  faulty  as  many 
of  them  are  in  this  respect,  there  is  always  a more  or  less 
distinct  co-ordination  of  parts  — an  arrangement  of  attitudes, 
expressions,  lights,  and  colors,  such  as  to  combine  the  picture 
into  an  organic  whole;  and  the  success  with  which  unity  of 
effect  is  educed  from  variety  of  components,  is  a chief  test  of 
merit. 

In  music,  progressive  integration  is  displayed  in  still  more 
numerous  ways.  The  simple  cadence  embracing  but  a few  notes, 
which  in  the  chants  of  savages  is  monotonously  repeated,  be- 
comes, among  civilized  races,  a long  series  of  different  musical 
phrases  combined  into  one  whole ; and  so  complete  is  the 
integration,  that  the  melody  cannot  be  broken  off  in  the  middle, 
nor  shorn  of  its  final  note,  without  giving  us  a painful  sense 
of  incompleteness.  When  to  the  air,  a bass,  a tenor,  and  an 
alto  are  added;  and  when  to  the  harmony  of  different  voice- 
parts  there  is  added  an  accompaniment;  we  see  exemplified 
integrations  of  another  order,  which  grow  gradually  more 
elaborate.  And  the  process  is  carried  a stage  higher  when  these 
complex  solos,  concerted  pieces,  choruses,  and  orchestral  effects, 
are  combined  into  the  vast  ensemble  of  a musical  drama;  of 
which,  be  it  remembered,  the  artistic  perfection  largely  consists 
in  the  subordination  of  the  particular  effects  to  the  total  effect. 

Once  more  the  Arts  of  literary  delineation,  narrative  and 
dramatic,  furnish  us  with  parallel  illustrations.  The  tales  of 
primitive  times,  like  those  with  which  the  story-tellers  of  the 
East  still  daily  amuse  their  listeners,  are  made  up  of  successive 
occurrences  that  are  not  only  in  themselves  unnatural,  but  have 
no  natural  connection : they  are  but  so  many  separate  adventures 
put  together  without  necessary  sequence.  But  in  a good  modern 
work  of  imagination,  the  events  are  the  proper  products  of  the 
characters  working  under  given  conditions;  and  cannot  at  will 
be  changed  in  their  order  or  kind,  without  injuring  or  destroying 
the  general  effect.  Further,  the  characters  themselves,  which 
in  early  fictions  play  their  respective  parts  without  showing  how 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 


283 


their  minds  are  modified  by  one  another  or  by  the  events,  are 
now  presented  to  us  as  held  together  by  complex  moral  relations, 
and  as  acting  and  reacting  upon  one  another’s  natures. 

§ 115.  Evolution  then,  under  its  primary  aspect,  is  a change 
from  a less  coherent  form  to  a more  coherent  form,  consequent 
on  the  dissipation  of  motion  and  integration  of  matter.  This 
is  the  universal  process  through  which  sensible  existences,  indi- 
vidually and  as  a whole,  pass  during  the  ascending  halves  of 
their  histories.  This  proves  to  be  a character  displayed  equally 
in  those  earliest  changes  which  the  universe  at  large  is  supposed 
to  have  undergone,  and  in  those  latest  changes  which  we  trace 
in  society  and  the  products  of  social  life.  And  throughout,  the 
unification  proceeds  in  several  ways  simultaneously. 

Alike  during  the  evolution  of  the  Solar  System,  of  a planet, 
of  an  organism,  of  a nation,  there  is  progressive  aggregation  of 
the  entire  mass.  This  may  be  shown  by  the  increasing  density 
of  the  matter  already  contained  in  it ; or  by  the  drawing  into 
it  of  matter  that  was  before  separate;  or  by  both.  But  in  any 
case  it  implies  a loss  of  relative  motion.  At  the  same  time,  the 
parts  into  which  the  mass  has  divided,  severally  consolidate  in 
like  manner.  We  see  this  in  that  formation  of  planets  and 
satellites  which  has  gone  on  along  with  the  concentration  of 
the  nebula  out  of  which  the  Solar  System  originated;  we  see 
it  in  the  growth  of  separate  organs  that  advances,  pari  passu , 
with  the  growth  of  each  organism;  we  see  it  in  that  rise  of 
special  industrial  centres  and  special  masses  of  population,  which 
is  associated  with  the  rise  of  each  society.  Always  more  or 
less  of  local  integration  accompanies  the  general  integration. 
And  then,  beyond  the  increased  closeness  of  juxtaposition  among 
the  components  of  the  whole,  and  among  the  components  of 
each  part,  there  is  increased  closeness  of  combination  among 
the  parts,  producing  mutual  dependence  of  them.  Dimly  fore- 
shadowed as  this  mutual  dependence  is  in  inorganic  existences, 
both  celestial  and  terrestrial,  it  becomes  distinct  in  organic  and 
super-organic  existences.  From  the  lowest  living  forms  upward, 
the  degree  of  development  is  marked  by  the  degree  in  which 
the  several  parts  constitute  a co-operative  assemblage.  The 
advance  from  those  creatures  which  live  on  in  each  part  when 
cut  to  pieces,  up  to  those  creatures  which  cannot  lose  any 


284 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


considerable  part  without  death,  nor  any  inconsiderable  part 
without  great  constitutional  disturbance,  is  an  advance  to  crea- 
tures which,  while  more  integrated  in  respect  to  their  solidifica- 
tion, are  also  more  integrated  as  consisting  of  organs  that  live 
for  and  by  each  other.  The  like  contrast  between  undeveloped 
and  developed  societies,  need  not  be  shown  in  detail:  the  ever- 
increasing  co-ordination  of  parts,  is  conspicuous  to  all.  And 
it  must  suffice  just  to  indicate  that  the  same  thing  holds  true 
of  social  products : as,  for  instance,  of  Science ; which  has 
become  highly  integrated  not  only  in  the  sense  that  each 
division  is'  made  up  of  mutually-dependent  propositions,  but 
in  the  sense  that  the  several  divisions  are  mutually  dependent 
— cannot  carry  on  their  respective  investigations  without  aid 
from  one  another. 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLL'jTON  CONTINUED 


285 


CHAPTEK  XY. 

THE  LAW  OE  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED. 

§ 116.  Changes  great  in  their  amounts  and  various  in  their 
kinds,  which  accompany  those  dealt  with  in  the  last  chapter, 
have  thus  far  been  wholly  ignored  — or,  if  tacitly  recognized, 
have  not  been  avowedly  recognized.  Integration  of  each  whole 
has  been  described  as  taking  place  simultaneously  with  integra- 
tion of  each  of  the  parts  into  which  the  whole  divides  itself. 
But  how  comes  each  whole  to  divide  itself  into  parts?  This  is 
a transformation  more  remarkable  than  the  passage  of  the 
whole  from  an  incoherent  to  a coherent  state;  and  a formula 
which  says  nothing  about  it  omits  more  than  half  the  phenomena 
to  be  formulated. 

This  larger  half  of  the  phenomena  we  have  now  to  treat. 
In  this  chapter  we  are  concerned  with  those  secondary  redis- 
tributions of  matter  and  motion  that  go  on  along  with  the 
primary  redistribution.  We  saw  that  while  in  very  incoherent 
aggregates,  secondary  redistributions  produce  but  evanescent 
results,  in  aggregates  that  reach  and  maintain  a certain  medium 
state,  neither  very  incoherent  nor  very  coherent,  results  of  a 
relatively  persistent  character  are  produced  — structural  modi- 
fications. And  our  next  inquiry  must  be  — What  is  the  uni- 
versal expression  for  these  structural  modifications? 

Already  an  implied  answer  has  been  given  by  the  title  — 
Compound  Evolution.  Already  in  distinguishing  as  simple 
Evolution,  that  integration  of  matter  and  dissipation  of  motion 
which  is  unaccompanied  by  secondary  redistributions,  it  has 
been  tacitly  asserted  that  where  secondary  redistributions  occur, 
complexity  arises.  Obviously  if,  while  there  has  gone  on  a 
transformation  of  the  incoherent  into  the  coherent,  there  have 
gone  on  other  transformations,  the  mass,  instead  of  remaining 
uniform,  must  have  become  multiform.  The  proposition  is  an 
identical  one.  To  say  that  the  primary  redistribution  is  accom- 


2S6 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


parried  by  secondary  redistributions,  is  to  say  that  along  with 
the  change  from  a diffused  to  a concentrated  state,  there  goes 
on  a change  from  a homogeneous  state  to  a heterogeneous  state. 
The  components  of  the  mass  while  they  become  integrated  also 
become  differentiated.1 

This,  then,  is  the  second  aspect  under  which  we  have  to  study 
Evolution.  As,  in  the  last  chapter,  we  contemplated  existences 
of  all  orders  as  displaying  progressive  integration;  so,  in  this 
chapter,  we  have  to  contemplate  them  as  displaying  progressive 
differentiation. 

§ 117.  A growing  variety  of  structure  throughout  our 
Sidereal  System,  is  implied  by  the  contrasts  that  indicate  an 
aggregative  process  throughout  it.  We  have  nebulas  that  are 
diffused  and  irregular,  and  others  that  are  spiral,  annular, 
spherical,  etc.  We  have  groups  of  stars  the  members  of  which 
are  scattered,  and  groups  concentrated  in  all  degrees  down  to 
closely-packed  globular  clusters.  We  have  these  groups  differing 
in  the  numbers  of  their  members,  from  those  containing  several 
thousand  stars  to  those  containing  but  two.  Among  individual 
stars  there  are  great  contrasts,  real  as  well  as  apparent,  of  size; 
and  from  their  unlike  colors,  as  well  as  from  their  unlike  spectra, 
numerous  contrasts  among  their  physical  states  are  inferable. 
Beyond  which  heterogeneities  in  detail  there  are  general  hetero- 
geneities. Nebulae  are  abundant  in  some  regions  of  the  heavens, 
while  in  others  there  are  only  stars.  Here  the  celestial  spaces 
are  almost  void  of  objects;  and  there  we  see  dense  aggregations, 
nebular  and  stellar  together. 

The  matter  of  our  Solar  System  during  its  concentration 
has  become  more  multiform.  The  aggregating  gaseous  spheroid, 
dissipating  its  motion,  acquiring  more  marked  unlikenesses  of 
density  and  temperature  between  interior  and  exterior,  and 
leaving  behind  from  time  to  time  annular  portions  of  its  mass, 

1 The  terms  here  used  must  be  understood  in  relative  senses.  Since 
we  know  of  no  such  thing  as  absolute  diffusion  or  absolute  concentra- 
tion, the  change  can  never  be  anything  but  a change  from  a more  diffused 
to  a less  diffused  state  • — ■ from  smaller  coherence  to  greater  coherence ; 
and,  similarly,  as  no  concrete  existences  present  us  with  absolute  sim- 
plicity-— as  nothing  is  perfectly  uniform  — as  we  nowhere  find  complete 
homogeneity  - — the  transformation  is  literally  always  toward  greater 
complexity,  or  increased  multiformity,  or  further  heterogeneity.  This 
qualification  the  reader  must  habitually  bear  in  mind. 


THE  LAW  OP  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


287 


underwent  differentiations  that  increased  in  number  and  degree, 
until  there  was  evolved  the  existing  organized  group  of  sun, 
planets,  and  satellites.  The  heterogeneity  of  this  is  variously 
displayed.  There  are  the  immense  contrasts  between  the  sun 
and  the  planets,  in  bulk  and  in  weight;  as  well  as  the  sub- 
ordinate contrasts  of  like  kind  between  one  planet  and  another, 
and  between  the  planets  and  their  satellites.  There  is  the 
further  contrast  between  the  sun  and  the  planets  in  respect 
of  temperature;  and  there  is  reason  to  suppose  that  the  planets 
and  satellites  differ  from  one  another  in  their  proper  heats,  as 
well  as  in  the  heats  which  they  receive  from  the  sun.  Bearing 
in  mind  that  they  also  differ  in  the  inclinations  of  their  orbits, 
the  inclinations  of  their  axes,  in  their  specific  gravities  and  in 
their  physical  constitutions,  we  see  how  decided  is  the  complexity 
wrought  in  the  Solar  System  by  those  secondary  redistributions 
that  have  accompanied  the  primary  redistribution. 

§ 118.  Passing  from  this  hypothetical  illustration,  which 
must  be  taken  for  what  it  'is  worth,  without  prejudice  to  the 
general  argument,  let  us  descend  to  an  order  of  evidence  less 
open  to  objection. 

It  is  now  generally  agreed  among  geologists  that  the  Earth 
was  once  a mass  of  molten  matter  ; and  that  its  inner  parts  are 
still  fluid  and  incandescent.  Originally,  then,  it  was  compara- 
tively homogeneous  in  consistence;  and,  because  of  the  circulation 
that  takes  place  in  heated  fluids,  must  'have  'been  com- 
paratively homogeneous  in  temperature.  It  must,  too,  have  been 
surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  consisting  partly  of  the  elements 
of  air  and  water,  and  partly  of  those  various  other  elements 
which  assume  gaseous  forms  at  high  temperatures.  That  cooling 
by  radiation  which,  though  originally  far  more  rapid  than  now, 
necessarily  required  an  immense  time  to  produce  decided  change, 
must  at  length  have  resulted  in  differentiating  the  portion  most 
able  to  part  with  its  heat;  namely,  the  surface.  A further 
cooling,  leading  to  deposition  of  all  solidifiable  elements  con- 
tained in  the  atmosphere,  and  finally  to  precipitation  of  the 
water  and  separation  of  it  from  the  air,  must  thus  have  caused 
a second  marked  differentiation;  and  as  the  condensation  must 
have  commenced  on  the  coolest  parts  of  the  surface  — namely. 


iSS 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


about  the  poles  — there  must  so  have  resulted  the  first  geo- 
graphical distinctions. 

To  these  illustrations  of  growing  heterogeneity,  which,  though 
deduced  from  the  known  laws  of  matter,  may  be  regarded  as 
hypothetical,  Geology  adds  an  extensive  series  that  have  been 
inductively  established.  The  Earth’s  structure  has  been  age 
after  age  further  involved  by  the  multiplication  of  the  strata 
which  forms  its  crust;  and  it  has  been  age  after  age  further 
involved  by  the  increasing  composition  of  these  strata,  the 
more  recent  of  which,  formed  from  the  detritus  of  the  more 
ancient,  are  many  of  them  rendered  highly  complex  by  the 
mixtures  of  materials  they  contain.  This  heterogeneity  has 
been  vastly  increased  by  the  action  of  the  Earth’s  still  molten 
nucleus  on  its  envelope ; whence  have  resulted  not  only  a great 
variety  of  igneous  rocks,  but  the  tilting  up  of  sedimentary  strata 
at  all  angles,  the  formation  of  faults  and  metallic  veins,  the 
production  of  endless  dislocations  and  irregularities.  Again, 
geologists  teach  us  that  the  Earth’s  surface  has  been  growing 
more  varied  in  elevation  — that  the  most  ancient  mountain 
systems  are  the  smallest,  and  the  Andes  and  Himalayas  the 
most  modern;  while,  in  all  probability,  there  have  been  corre- 
sponding changes  in  the  bed  of  the  ocean.  As  a consequence 
of  this  ceaseless  multiplication  of  differences,  we  now  find  that 
no  considerable  portion  of  the  Earth’s  exposed  surface,  is  like 
any  other  portion,  either  in  contour,  in  geologic  structure,  or 
in  chemical  composition;  and  that,  in  most  parts,  the  surface 
changes  from  mile  to  mile  in  all  these  characteristics. 

There  has  been  simultaneously  going  on  a gradual  differ- 
entiation of  climates.  As  fast  as  the  Earth  cooled  and  its  crust 
solidified,  inequalities  of  temperature  arose  between  those  parts 
of  its  surface  most  exposed  to  the  sun  and  those  less  exposed; 
and  thus  in  time  there  came  to  be  the  marked  contrasts  between 
regions  of  perpetual  ice  and  snow,  regions  where  winter  and 
summer  alternately  reign  for  periods  varying  according  to  the 
latitude,  and  regions  where  summer  follows  summer  with 
scarcely  an  appreciable  variation.  Meanwhile,  elevations  and 
subsidences,  recurring  here  and  there  over  the  Earth’s  crust, 
tending  as  they  have  done  to  produce  irregular  distribution  of 
land  and  sea,  have  entailed  various  modifications  of  climate 
beyond  those  dependent  on  latitude;  while  a yet  further  series 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


289 


of  such  modifications  has  been  produced  by  increasing  differences 
of  height  in  the  lands,  which  have  in  sundry  places  brought 
arctic,  temperate,  and  tropical  climates  to  within  a few  miles 
of  one  another.  The  general  results  of  these  changes  are,  that 
every  extensive  region  has  its  own  meteorologic  conditions,  and 
that  every  locality  in  each  region  differs  more  or  less  from 
others  in  those  conditions:  as  in  its  structure,  its  contour,  its 
soil. 

Thus,  between  our  existing  Earth,  the  phenomena  of  whose 
varied  crust  neither  geographers,  geologists,  mineralogists  nor 
meteorologists  have  yet  enumerated,  and  the  molten  globe  out 
of  which  it  was  evolved,  the  contrast  in  heterogeneity  is  suffi- 
ciently striking. 

§ 119.  The  clearest,  most  numerous,  and  most  varied  illus- 
trations of  the  advance  in  multiformity  that  accompanies  the 
advance  in  integration,  are  furnished  by  living  organic  bodies. 
Distinguished  as  we  found  these  to  be  by  the  great  quantity 
of  their  contained  motion,  they  exhibit  in  an  extreme  degree 
the  secondary  redistributions  which  contained  motion  facilitates. 
The  history  of  every  plant  and  every  animal,  while  it  is  a 
history  of  increasing  bulk,  is  also  a history  of  simultaneously- 
increasing  differences  among  the  parts.  This  transformation 
has  several  aspects. 

The  chemical  composition  which  is  almost  uniform  through- 
out the  substance  of  a germ,  vegetal  or  animal,  gradually  ceases 
to  be  uniform.  The  several  compounds,  nitrogenous  and  non- 
nitrogenous,  which  were  homogeneously  mixed,  segregate  by 
degrees,  become  diversely  proportioned  in  diverse  places,  and 
produce  new  compounds  by  transformation  or  modification.  In 
plants  the  albuminous  and  amylaceous  matters  which  form  the 
substance  of  the  embryo,  give  origin  here  to  a preponderance 
of  chlorophyll  and  there  to  a preponderance  of  cellulose.  Over 
the  parts  that  are  becoming  leaf-surfaces,  certain  of  the  materials 
are  metamorphosed  into  wax.  In  this  place  starch  passes  into 
one  of  its  isomeric  equivalents,  sugar;  and  in  that  place  into 
another  of  its  isomeric  equivalents,  gum.  By  secondary  change 
some  of  the  cellulose  is  modified  into  wood ; while  some  of  it 
is  modified  into  the  allied  substance  which,  in  large  masses, 
we  distinguish  as  cork.  And  the  more  numerous  compounds 


290 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


thus  gradually  arising,  initiate  further  unlikenesses  by  mingling 
in  unlike  ratios.  An  animal-ovum,  the  components  of  which 
are  at  first  evenly  diffused  among  one  another,  chemically  trans- 
forms itself  in  like  manner.  Its  protein,  its  fats,  its  salts, 
become  dissimilarly  proportioned  in  different  localities;  and 
multiplication  of  isomeric  forms  leads  to  further  mixtures  and 
combinations  that  constitute  many  minor  distinctions  of  parts. 
Here  a mass  darkening  by  accumulation  of  hematine,  presently 
dissolves  into  blood.  There  fatty  and  albuminous  matters 
uniting,  compose  nerve-tissues.  At  this  spot  the  nitrogenous 
substance  takes  on  the  character  of  cartilage;  and  at  that, 
calcareous  salts,  gathering  together  in  the  cartilage,  lay  the 
foundation  of  bone.  All  these  chemical  differentiations  slowly 
and  insensibly  become  more  marked  and  more  multiplied. 

Simultaneously  there  arise  contrasts  of  minute  structure. 
Distinct  tissues  take  the  place  of  matter  that  had  previously 
no  recognizable  unlikenesses  of  parts;  and  each  of  the  tissues 
first  produced  undergoes  secondary  modifications,  causing  sub- 
species of  tissues.  The  granular  protoplasm  of  the  vegetable 
germ,  equally  with  that  which  forms  the  unfolding  point  of 
every  shoot,  gives  origin  to  cells  that  are  at  first  alike.  Some 
of  these,  as  they  grow,  flatten  and  unite  by  their  edges  to  form 
the  outer  layer.  Others  elongate  greatly,  and  at  the  same  time 
join  together  in  bundles  to  lay  the  foundation  of  woody-fibre. 
Before  they  begin  to  elongate,  certain  of  these  cells  show  a 
breaking-up  of  the  lining  deposit,  which,  during  elongation, 
becomes  a spiral  thread,  or  a reticulated  framework,  or  a series 
of  rings ; and  by  the  longitudinal  union  of  cells  so  lined,  vessels 
are  formed.  Meanwhile  each  of  these  differentiated  tissues  is 
redifferentiated:  instance  that  which  constitutes  the  essential 
part  of  the  leaf,  the  upper  stratum  of  which  is  composed  of 
chlorophyll-cells  that  remain  closely  packed,  while  the  lower 
stratum  becomes  spongy.  Of  the  same  general  character  are 
the  transformations  undergone  by  the  fertilized  ovum,  which, 
at  first  a cluster  of  similar  cells,  quickly  reaches  a stage  in 
which  these  cells  have  become  dissimilar.  More  frequently 
recurring  fission  of  the  superficial  cells,  a resulting  smaller  size 
of  them,  and  subsequent  union  of  them  into  an  outer  layer,  con- 
stitute the  first  differentiation ; and  the  middle  area  of  this  layer 
is  rendered  unlike  the  rest  by  still  more  active  processes  of  like 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


291 


kind.  By  such  modifications  upon  modifications,  too  multi- 
tudinous to  enumerate  here,  arise  the  classes  and  sub-classes 
of  tissues  which,  variously  involved  one  with  another,  compose 
organs. 

Equally  conforming  to  the  law  are  the  changes  of  general 
shape  and  of  the  shapes  of  organs.  All  germs  are  at  first 
spheres  and  all  organs  are  at  first  buds  or  mere  rounded  lumps. 
From  this  primordial  uniformity  and  simplicity,  there  takes 
place  divergence,  both  of  the  wholes  and  the  leading  parts, 
toward  multiformity  of  contour  and  toward  complexity  of  con- 
tour. Cut  away  the  compactly-folded  young  leaves  that  ter- 
minate every  shoot,  and  the  nucleus  is  found  to  be  a central 
knob  bearing  lateral  knobs,  one  of  which  may  grow  into  either 
a leaf,  a sepal,  a petal,  a stamen,  a carpel : all  these  eventually- 
unlike  parts  being  at  first  alike.  The  shoots  themselves  also 
depart  from  their  primitive  unity  of  form;  and  while  each 
branch  becomes  more  or  less  different  from  the  rest,  the  whole 
exposed  part  of  the  plant  becomes  different  from  the  imbedded 
part.  So,  too,  is  it  with  the  organs  of  animals.  One  of  the 
Articulata , for  instance,  has  limbs  that  are  originally  indis- 
tinguishable from  one  another  — compose  a homogeneous  series ; 
but  by  continuous  divergences  there  arise  among  them  unlike- 
nesses of  size  and  form,  such  as  we  see  in  the  crab  and  the 
lobster.  Vertebrate  creatures  equally  exemplify  this  truth.  The 
wings  and  legs  of  a bird  are  of  similar  shapes  when  they  bud 
out  from  the  sides  of  the  embryo. 

Thus  in  every  plant  and  animal,  conspicuous  secondary  redis- 
tributions accompany  the  primary  redistribution.  A first  differ- 
ence between  two  parts;  in  each  of  these  parts  other  differences 
that  presently  become  as  marked  as  the  first ; and  a like 
multiplication  of  differences  in  geometrical  progression,  until 
there  is  reached  that  complex  combination  constituting  the  adult. 
This  is  the  history  of  all  living  things  whatever.  Pursuing  an 
idea  which  Harvey  set  afloat,  it  has  been  shown  by  Wolff  and 
Von  Baer,  that  during  its  evolution  each  organism  passes  from 
a state  of  homogeneity  to  a state  of  heterogeneity.  For  a 
generation  this  truth  has  been  accepted  by  biologists.1 

1 It  was  in  1852  that  I became  acquainted  with  Von  Baer’s  expression 
of  this  general  principle.  The  universality  of  law  had  ever  been  with 
me  a postulate,  carrying  with  it  a correlative  belief,  tacit  if  not  avowed, 


292 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


§ 120.  When  we  pass  from  individual  forms  ol  life  to  life 
in  general,  and  ask  whether  the  same  law  is  seen  in  the  ensemble 
of  its  manifestations  - — whether  modern  plants  and  animals 
have  more  heterogeneous  structures  than  ancient  ones,  and 
whether  the  Earth’s  present  Flora  and  Fauna  are  more  hetero- 
geneous than  the  Flora  and  Fauna  of  the  past  — we  find  the 
evidence  so  fragmentary  that  every  conclusion  is  open  to  dispute. 
Two-thirds  of  the  Earth’s  surface  being  covered  by  water;  a 
great  part  of  the  exposed  land  being  inaccessible  to,  or  un- 
travelled by,  the  geologist;  the  greater  part  of  the  remainder 
having  been  scarcely  more  than  glanced  at;  and  even  the  most 
familiar  portions,  as  England,  having  been  so  imperfectly 
explored,  that  a new  series  of  strata  has  been  added  within 
these  few  years  — it  is  manifestly  impossible  for  us  to  say  with 
any  certainty  what  creatures  have,  and  what  have  not,  existed 
at  any  particular  period.  Considering  the  perishable  nature  of 
many  of  the  lower  organic  forms,  the  metamorphosis  of  many 
sedimentary  strata,  and  the  gaps  that  occur  among  the  rest,  we 
shall  see  further  reason  for  distrusting  our  deductions.  On  the 

in  unity  of  method  throughout  Nature.  This  statement  that  every  plant 
and  animal,  originally  homogeneous  becomes  gradually  heterogeneous,  set 
up  a process  of  co-ordination  among  accumulated  thoughts  that  were 
previously  unorganized,  or  but  partially  organized.  It  is  true  that  in 
“Social  Statics”  (Part  IV.,  §§  12-16),  written  before  meeting  with 
Von  Baer’s  formula,  the  development  of  an  individual  organism  and  the 
development  of  the  social  organism,  are  described  as  alike  consisting  in 
advance  from  simplicity  to  complexity,  and  from  independent  like  parts 
to  mutually-dependent  unlike  parts  — a parallelism  implied  by  Milne- 
Edwards’  doctrine  of  “ the  physiological  division  of  labor.”  But  though 
admitting  of  extension  to  other  super-organic  phenomena,  this  statement 
was  too  special  to  admit  of  extension  to  inorganic  phenomena.  The 
great  aid  rendered  by  Von  Baer’s  formula  arose  from  its  higher  general- 
ity ; since,  only  when  organic  transformations  had  been  expressed  in  the 
most  general  terms,  was  the  way  opened  for  seeing  what  they  had  in 
common  with  inorganic  transformations.  The  conviction  that  thi3 
process  of  change  gone  through  by  each  evolving  organism  is  a process 
gone  through  by  all  things,  found  its  first  coherent  statement  in  an 
essay  on  “ Progress : its  Law  and  Cause,”  which  I published  in  the 
“ Westminster  Review  ” for  April,  1857  — an  essay  with  the  first  half 
of  which  this  chapter  coincides  in  substance,  and  partly  in  form.  In 
that  essay,  however,  as  also  in  the  first  edition  of  this  work,  I fell  into 
the  error  of  supposing  that  the  transformation  of  the  homogeneous  into 
the  heterogeneous  constitutes  Evolution;  whereas,  as  we  have  seen,  it 
constitutes  the  secondary  redistribution  accompanying  the  primary  redis- 
tribution in  that  Evolution  which  we  distinguish  as  compound  or, 
rather,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  it  constitutes  the  most  conspicuous 
part  of  this  secondary  redistribution. 


THE  LAW  OP  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


293 


one  hand,  the  repeated  discovery  of  vertebrate  remains  in 
strata  previously  supposed  to  contain  none  — of  reptiles  where 
only  fish  were  thought  to  exist  — of  mammals  where  it  was 
believed  there  were  no  creatures  higher  than  reptiles;  renders 
it  daily  more  manifest  how  small  is  the  value  of  negative 
evidence.  On  the  other  hand,  the  worthlessness  of  the  assump- 
tion that  we  have  discovered  the  earliest,  or  anything  like  the 
earliest,  organic  remains,  is  becoming  equally  clear.  That  the 
oldest  known  aqueous  formations  have  been  greatly  changed  by 
igneous  action,  and  that  still  older  ones  have  been  totally  trans- 
formed by  it,  is  becoming  undeniable.  And  the  fact  that 
sedimentary  strata  earlier  than  any  we  know,  have  been  melted 
up,  being  admitted,  it  must  also  be  admitted  that  we  cannot 
say  how  far  back  in  time  this  destruction  of  sedimentary  strata 
has  been  going  on.  Thus  it  is  manifest  that  for  aught  we  know 
to  the  contrary,  only  the  last  few  chapters  of  the  Earth’s  bi- 
ological history  may  have  come  down  to  us. 

All  inferences  drawn  from  such  scattered  facts  as  we  find 
must  thus  be  extremely  questionable.  If,  looking  at  the  general 
aspect  of  evidence,  a progressionist  argues  that  the  earliest 
known  vertebrate  remains  are  those  of  Fishes,  which  are  the 
most  homogeneous  of  the  Vert  eh  rata;  that  Reptiles,  which  are 
more  heterogeneous,  are  later;  and  that  later  still,  and  more 
heterogeneous  still,  are  Mammals  and  Birds;  it  may  be  replied 
that  the  Palaeozoic  deposits,  not  being  estuary  deposits,  are  not 
likely  to  contain  the  remains  of  terrestrial  Vertehrata , which 
may  nevertheless  have  existed  at  that  era.  The  same  answer 
may  be  made  to  the  argument  that  the  vertebrate  fauna  of 
the  Palaeozoic  period,  consisting,  so  far  as  we  know,  entirely  of 
Fishes,  was  less  heterogeneous  than  the  modern  vertebrate  fauna, 
which  includes  Reptiles,  Birds  and  Mammals,  of  multitudinous 
genera;  or  the  uniformitarian  may  contend  with  great  show  of 
truth,  that  this  appearance  of  higher  and  more  varied  forms 
in  later  geologic  eras  was  due  to  progressive  immigration  - — - that 
a continent  slowly  upheaved  from  the  ocean  at  a point  remote 
from  pre-existing  continents,  would  necessarily  be  peopled  from 
them  in  a succession  like  that  which  our  strata  display.  At  the 
same  time  the  counter-arguments  may  be  proved  equally  incon- 
clusive. When,  to  show  that  there  cannot  have  been  a con- 
tinuous evolution  of  the  more  homogeneous  organic  forms  into 


294 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  more  heterogeneous  ones,  the  uniformitarian  points  to  the 
breaks  that  occur  in  the  succession  of  these  forms;  there  is 
the  sufficient  answer  that  current  geological  changes  show  us 
why  such  breaks  must  occur,  and  why,  by  subsidences  and 
elevations  of  large  area,  there  must  be  produced  such  marked 
breaks  as  those  which  divide  the  three  great  geologic  epochs. 
Or  again,  if  the  opponent  of  the  development  hypothesis  cites 
the  facts  set  forth  by  Professor  Huxley  in  his  lecture  on  “ Per- 
sistent Types  ” — if  he  points  out  that  “ of  some  two  hundred 
known  orders  of  plants,  not  one  is  exclusively  fossil,”  while 
“ among  animals,  there  is  not  a single  totally  extinct  class ; and 
of  the  orders,  at  the  outside  not  more  than  seven  per  cent  are 
unrepresented  in  the  existing  creation  if  he  urges  that 
among  these  some  have  continued  from  the  Silurian  epoch  to 
our  own  day  with  scarcely  any  change  ■ — - and  if  he  infers  that 
there  is  evidently  a much  greater  average  resemblance  between 
the  living  forms  of  the  past  and  those  of  the  present,  than 
consists  with  this  hypothesis;  there  is  still  a satisfactory  reply, 
on  which  in  fact  Professor  Huxley  insists;  namely,  that  we 
have  evidence  of  a “ jire-geologic  era  ” of  unknown  duration. 
And  indeed,  when  it  is  remembered,  that  the  enormous  sub- 
sidences of  the  Silurian  period  show  the  Earth’s  crust  to  have 
been  approximately  as  thick  then  as  it  is  now  — when  it  is 
concluded  that  the  time  taken  to  form  so  thick  a crust,  must 
have  been  immense  as  compared  with  the  time  which  has  since 
elapsed  — when  it  is  assumed,  as  it  must  be,  that  during  this 
comparatively  immense  time  the  geologic  and  biologic  changes 
went  on  at  their  usual  rates;  it  becomes  manifest,  not  only 
that  the  palaeontological  records  which  we  find,  do  not  negative 
the  theory  of  evolution,  but  that  they  are  such  as  might  ration- 
ally be  looked  for. 

Moreover,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  though  the  evidence 
suffices  neither  for  proof  nor  disproof,  yet  some  of  its  most 
conspicuous  facts  support  the  belief,  that  the  more  heterogeneous 
organisms  and  groups  of  organisms,  have  been  evolved  from 
the  less  heterogeneous  ones.  The  average  community  of  type 
between  the  fossils  of  adjacent  strata,  and  still  more  the  com- 
munity that  is  found  between  the  latest  tertiary  fossils  and 
creatures  now  existing,  is  one  of  these  facts.  The  discovery 
in  some  modern  deposits  of  such  forms  as  the  Palaeotherium 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


295 


and  Anaplotherium,  -which,  if  -we  may  rely  on  Professor  Owen, 
had  a type  of  structure  intermediate  between  some  of  the  types 
now  existing,  is  another  of  these  facts.  And  the  comparatively 
recent  appearance  of  Man,  is  a third  fact  of  this  kind,  which 
possesses  still  greater  significance.  Hence  we  may  say,  that 
though  our  knowledge  of  past  life  upon  the  Earth  is  too  scanty 
to  justify  us  in  asserting  an  evolution  of  the  simple  into  the 
complex,  either  in  individual  forms  or  in  the  aggregate  of 
forms;  yet  the  knowledge  we  have,  not  only  consists  with  the 
belief  that  there  has  been  such  an  evolution,  but  rather  supports 
it  than  otherwise. 

§ 121.  Whether  an  advance  from  the  homogeneous  to  the 
heterogeneous  is  or  is  not  displayed  in  the  biological  history 
of  the  globe,  it  is  clearly  enough  displayed  in  the  progress  of 
the  latest  and  most  heterogeneous  creature  — Man.  It  is  alike 
true  that,  during  the  period  in  which  the  Earth  has  been 
peopled,  the  human  organism  has  grown  more  heterogeneous 
among  the  civilized  divisions  of  the  species ; and  that  the 
species,  as  a whole,  has  been  made  more  heterogeneous  by  the 
multiplication  of  races  and  the  differentiation  of  these  races 
from  each  other.  In  proof  of  the  first  of  these  positions,  we 
may  cite  the  fact  that,  in  the  relative  development  of  the 
limbs,  the  civilized  man  departs  more  widely  from  the  general 
type  of  the  placental  mammalia,  than  do  the  lower  human  races. 
Though  often  possessing  well-developed  body  and  arms,  the 
Papuan  has  extremely  small  legs:  thus  reminding  us  of  the 
quadrumana,  in  which  there  is  no  great  contrast  in  size  between 
the  hind  and  fore  limbs.  But  in  the  European,  the  greater 
length  and  massiveness  of  the  legs  has  become  very  marked 
— the  fore  and  hind  limbs  are  relatively  more  heterogeneous. 
Again,  the  greater  ratio  which  the  cranial  bones  bear  to  the 
facial  bones,  illustrates  the  same  truth.  Among  the  vertebrata 
in  general,  evolution  is  marked  by  an  increasing  heterogeneity 
in  the  vertebral  column,  and  more  especially  in  the  segments 
constituting  the  skull : the  higher  forms  being  distinguished  by 
the  relatively  larger  size  of  the  bones  which  cover  the  brain, 
and  the  relatively  smaller  size  of  those  which  form  the  jaws, 
etc.  How,  this  characteristic,  which  is  stronger  in  Man  than 
in  any  other  creature,  is  stronger  in  the  European  than  in  the 


296 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


savage.  Moreover,  judging  from  the  greater  extent  and  variety 
of  faculty  he  exhibits,  we  may  infer  that  the  civilized  man  has 
also  a more  complex  or  heterogeneous  nervous  system  than  the 
uncivilized  man;  and  indeed  the  fact  is  in  part  visible  in  the 
increased  ratio  which  his  cerebrum  bears  to  the  subjacent 
ganglia.  If  further  elucidation  be  needed,  we  may  find  it  in 
every  nursery.  The  infant  European  has  sundry  marked  points 
of  resemblance  to  the  lower  human  races;  as  in  the  flatness  of 
the  alae  of  the  nose,  the  depression  of  its  bridge,  the  divergence 
and  forward  opening  of  the  nostrils,  the  form  of  the  lips,  the 
absence  of  a frontal  sinus,  the  width  between  the  eyes,  the 
smallness  of  the  legs.  Now,  as  the  developmental  process  by 
which  these  traits  are  turned  into  those  of  the  adult  European, 
is  a continuation  of  that  change  from  the  homogeneous  to  the 
heterogeneous  displayed  during  the  previous  evolution  of  the 
embryo,  which  every  physiologist  will  admit;  it  follows  that 
the  parallel  developmental  process  by  which  the  like  traits  of 
the  barbarous  races  have  been  turned  into  those  of  the  civilized 
races,  has  also  been  a continuation  of  the  change  from  the 
homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous.  The  truth  of  the  second 
position  — that  Mankind,  as  a whole,  have  become  more  hetero- 
geneous — is  so  obvious  as  scarcely  to  need  illustration.  Every 
work  on  Ethnology,  by  its  divisions  and  subdivisions  of  races, 
bears  testimony  to  it.  Even  were  we  to  admit  the  hypothesis 
that  Mankind  originated  from  several  separate  stocks,  it  would 
still  remain  true  that  as,  from  each  of  these  stocks,  there  have 
sprung  many  now  widely  different  tribes,  which  are  proved  by 
philological  evidence  to  have  had  a common  origin,  the  race  as 
a whole  is  far  less  homogeneous  than,  it  once  was.  Add  to  which, 
that  we  have,  in  the  Anglo-Americans,  an  example  of  a new 
variety  arising  within  these  few  generations;  and  that,  if  we 
may  trust  to  the  descriptions  of  observers,  we  are  likely  soon 
to  have  another  such  example  in  Australia. 

§ 122.  On  passing  from  Humanity  under  its  individual 
form,  to  Humanity  as  socially  embodied,  we  find  the  general 
law  still  more  variously  exemplified.  The  change  from  the 
homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous,  is  displayed  equally  in  the 
progress  of  civilization  as  a whole,  and  in  the  progress  of  every 
tribe  or  nation ; and  is  still  going  on  with  increasing  rapidity, 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


297 


As  we  see  in  existing  barbarous  tribes,  society  in  its  first 
and  lowest  form  is  a homogeneous  aggregation  of  individuals 
having  like  powers  and  like  functions:  the  only  marked  dif- 
ference of  function  being  that  which  accompanies  difference  of 
sex.  Every  man  is  warrior,  hunter,  fisherman,  tool-maker, 
builder ; every  woman  performs  the  same  drudgeries ; every  fam- 
ily is  self-sufficing,  and,  save  for  purposes  of  aggression  and 
defence,  might  as  well  live  apart  from  the  rest.  Yery  early, 
however,  in  the  process  of  social  evolution,  we  find  an  incipient 
differentiation  between  the  governing  and  the  governed.  Some 
kind  of  chieftainship  seems  coeval  with  the  first  advance  from 
the  state  of  separate  wandering  families  to  that  of  a nomadic 
tribe.  The  authority  of  the  strongest  makes  itself  felt  among 
a body  of  savages,  as  in  a herd  of  animals,  or  a posse  of  school- 
boys. At  first,  however,  it  is  indefinite,  uncertain ; is  shared  by 
others  of  scarcely  inferior  power;  and  is  unaccompanied  by  any 
difference  in  occupation  or  style  of  living:  the  first  ruler  kills 
his  own  game,  makes  his  own  weapons,  builds  his  own  hut,  and, 
economically  considered,  does  not  differ  from  others  of  his  tribe. 
Gradually,  as  the  tribe  progresses,  the  contrast  between  the  gov- 
erning and  the  governed  grows  more  decided.  Supreme  power 
becomes  hereditary  in  one  family;  the  head  of  that  family, 
ceasing  to  provide  for  his  own  wants,  is  served  by  others ; and  he 
begins  to  assume  the  sole  office  of  ruling.  At  the  same  time  there 
has  been  arising  a co-ordinate  species  of  government  — that  of 
Eeligion.  As  all  ancient  records  and  traditions  prove,  the 
earliest  rulers  are  regarded  as  divine  personages.  The  maxims 
and  commands  they  uttered  during  their  lives  are  held  sacred 
after  their  deaths,  and  are  enforced  by  their  divinely-descended 
successors;  who  in  their  turns  are  promoted  to  the  pantheon  of 
the  race,  there  to  be  worshipped  and  propitiated  along  with  their 
predecessors;  the  most  ancient  of  whom  is  the  supreme  god, 
and  the  rest  subordinate  gods.  For  a long  time  these  connate 
forms  of  government  — civil  and  religious  — continue  closely 
associated.  For  many  generations  the  king  continues  to  be  the 
chief  priest,  and  the  priesthood  to  be  members  of  the  royal  race. 
For  many  ages  religious  law  continues  to  contain  more  or  less 
of  civil  regulation,  and  civil  law  to  possess  more  or  less  of  re- 
ligious sanction  ; and  even  among  the  most  advanced  nations 
these  two  controlling  agencies  are  by  no  means  completely  differ-. 


29S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


entiated  from  each  other.  Having  a common  root  with  these, 
and  gradually  diverging  from  them,  we  find  yet  another  con- 
trolling agency  — that  of  Manners  or  ceremonial  usages.  All 
titles  of  honor  are  originally  the  names  of  the  god-king;  after- 
ward of  God  and  the  king;  still  later  of  persons  of  high  rank; 
and  finally  come,  some  of  them,  to  be  used  between  man  and 
man.  All  forms  of  complimentary  address  were  at  first  the 
expressions  of  submission  from  prisoners  to  their  conqueror,  or 
from  subjects  to  their  ruler,  either  human  or  divine  — expres- 
sions that  were  afterward  used  to  propitiate  subordinate  author- 
ities, and  slowly  descended  into  ordinary  intercourse.  All  modes 
of  salutation  were  once  obeisances  made  before  the  monarch  and 
used  in  worship  of  him  after  his  death.  Presently  others  of  the 
god-descended  race  were  similarly  saluted;  and  by  degrees  some 
of  the  salutations  have  become  the  due  of  all.1  Thus,  no  sooner 
does  the  originally  homogeneous  social  mass  differentiate  into 
the  governed  and  the  governing  parts,  than  this  last  exhibits  an 
incipient  differentiation  into  religious  and  secular  — Church 
and  State;  while  at  the  same  time  there  begins  to  be  differen- 
tiated from  both,  that  less  definite  species  of  government  which 
rules  our  daily  intercourse  — - a species  of  government  which, 
as  we  may  see  in  heralds’  colleges,  in  books  of  the  peerage,  in 
masters  of  ceremonies,  is  not  without  a certain  embodiment  of 
its  own.  Each  of  these  kinds  of  government  is  itself  subject  to 
successive  differentiations.  In  the  course  of  ages,  there  arises, 
as  among  ourselves,  a highly  complex  political  organization  of 
monarch,  ministers,  lords  and  commons,  with  their  subordinate 
administrative  departments,  courts  of  justice,  revenue  offices, 
etc.,  supplemented  in  the  provinces  by  •municipal  governments, 
county  governments,  parish  or  union  governments  — ■ all  of  them 
more  or  less  elaborated.  By  its  side  there  grows  up  a highly 
complex  religious  organization,  with  its  various  grades  of  officials 
from  archbishops  down  to  sextons,  its  colleges,  convocations,  ec- 
clesiastical courts,  etc. ; to  all  which  must  be  added  the  ever- 
multiplying  independent  sects,  each  with  its  general  and  local 
authorities.  And  at  the  same  time  there  is  developed  a highly 
complex  aggregation  of  customs,  manners,  and  temporary  fash- 
ions, enforced  by  society  at  large,  and  serving  to  control  those 

1 Fox-  detailed  proof  of  these  assertions  see  essay  on  “ Manners  and 
Fashion,” 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED  299 

minor  transactions  between  man  and  man  which  are  not  reg- 
ulated by  civil  and  religious  law.  Moreover,  it  is  to  be  observed 
that  this  ever-increasing  heterogeneity  in  the  governmental  ap- 
pliances of  each  nation,  has  been  accompanied  by  an  increasing 
heterogeneity  in  the  governmental  appliances  of  different  na- 
tions : all  of  which  are  more  or  less  unlike  in  their  political  sys- 
tems and  legislation,  in  their  creeds  and  religious  institutions,  in 
their  customs  and  ceremonial  usages. 

Simultaneously  there  has  been  going  on  a second  differentia- 
tion of  a more  familiar  kind  ; that,  namely,  by  which  the  mass 
of  the  community  has  been  segregated  into  distinct  classes  and 
orders  of  workers.  While  the  governing  part  has  undergone  the 
complex  development  above  detailed,  the  governed  part  has  un- 
dergone an  equally  complex  development;  which  has  resulted  in 
that  minute  division  of  labor  characterizing  advanced  nations. 
It  is  needless  to  trace  out  this  progress  from  its  first  stages,  up 
through  the  caste  divisions  of  the  East  and  the  incorporated 
guilds  of  Europe,  to  the  elaborate  producing  and  distributing 
organization  existing  among  ourselves.  Political  economists 
have  long  since  indicated  the  evolution  which,  beginning  with  a 
tribe  whose  members  severally  perform  the  same  actions,  each 
for  himself,  ends  with  a civilized  community  whose  members 
severally  perform  different  actions  for  each  other;  and  they 
have  further  pointed  out  the  changes  through  which  the  solitary 
producer  of  any  one  commodity  is  transformed  into  a com- 
bination of  producers  who,  united  under  a master,  take  separate 
parts  in  the  manufacture  of  such  commodity.  But  there  are 
yet  other  and  higher  phases  of  this  advance  from  the  homogene- 
ous to  the  heterogeneous  in  the  industrial  organization  of  so- 
ciety. Long  after  considerable  progress  has  been  made  in  the 
division  of  labor  among  the  different  classes  of  workers,  there  is 
still  little  or  no  division  of  labor  among  the  widely  separated 
parts  of  the  community:  the  nation  continues  comparatively 
homogeneous  in  the  respect  that  in  each  district  the  same  occu- 
pations are  pursued.  But  when  roads  and  other  means  of 
transit  become  numerous  and  good,  the  different  districts  begin 
to  assume  different  functions,  and  to  become  mutually  depend- 
ent. The  calico  manufacture  locates  itself  in  this  county,  the 
woollen  manufacture  in  that ; silks  are  produced  here,  lace  there ; 
stockings  in  one  place,  shoes  in  another;  pottery,  hardware,  cut- 


300 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


lery,  come  to  have  their  special  towns;  and  ultimately  every 
locality  grows  more  or  less  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  the 
leading  occupation  carried  on  in  it.  Nay,  more,  this  subdivision 
of  functions  shows  itself  not  only  among  the  different  parts  of 
the  same  nation,  but  among  different  nations.  That  exchange  of 
commodities  which  free-trade  promises  so  greatly  to  increase,  will 
ultimately  have  the  effect  of  specializing,  in  a greater  or  less 
degree,  the  industry  of  each  people.  So  that  beginning  with  a 
barbarous  tribe,  almost  if  not  quite  homogeneous  in  the  func- 
tions of  its  members,  the  progress  has  been,  and  still  is,  toward 
an  economic  aggregation  of  the  whole  human  race ; growing  ever 
more  heterogeneous  in  respect  of  the  separate  functions  as- 
sumed by  separate  nations,  the  separate  functions  assumed  by 
the  local  sections  of  each  nation,  the  separate  functions  assumed 
by  the  many  kinds  of  makers  and  traders  in  each  town,  and  the 
separate  functions  assumed  by  the  workers  united  in  producing 
each  commodity. 

§ 123.  Not  only  is  the  law  thus  clearly  exemplified  in  the 
evolution  of  the  social  organism,  but  it  is  exemplified  with  equal 
clearness  in  the  evolution  of  all  products  of  human  thought  and 
action ; whether  concrete  or  abstract,  real  or  ideal.  Let  us  take 
Language  as  our  first  illustration. 

The  lowest  form  of  language  is  the  exclamation,  by  which  an 
entire  idea  is  vaguely  conveyed  through  a single  sound ; as  among 
the  lower  animals.  That  human  language  ever  consisted  solely 
of  exclamations,  and  so  was  strictly  homogeneous  in  respect  of 
its  parts  of  speech,  we  have  no  evidence.  But  that  language  can 
be  traced  down  to  a form  in  which  nouns  and  verbs  are  its  only 
elements,  is  an  established  fact.  In  the  gradual  multiplication 
of  parts  of  speech  out  of  these  primary  ones  — in  the  differentia- 
tion of  verbs  into  active  and  passive,  of  nouns  into  abstract  and 
concrete  — in  the  rise  of  distinctions  of  mood,  tense,  person,  of 
number  and  case  — in  the  formation  of  auxiliary  verbs,  of  ad- 
jectives, adverbs,  pronouns,  prepositions,  articles  — in  the  di- 
vergence of  those  orders,  genera,  species,  and  varieties  of  parts 
of  speech  by  which  civilized  races  express  minute  modifications 
of  meaning- — -we  see  a change  from  the  homogeneous  to  the 
heterogeneous.  And  it  may  be  remarked,  in  passing,  that  it  is 
more  especially  in  virtue  of  having  carried  this  subdivision  of 


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301 


functions  to  a greater  extent  and  completeness,  that  the  English 
language  is  superior  to  all  others.  Another  aspect  under  which 
we  may  trace  the  development  of  language,  is  the  differentiation 
of  words  of  allied  meanings.  Philology  early  disclosed  the  truth 
that  in  all  languages  words  may  be  grouped  into  families  having 
a common  ancestry.  An  aboriginal  name,  applied  indiscrim- 
inately to  each  of  an  extensive  and  ill-defined  class  of  things  or 
actions,  presently  undergoes  modifications  by  which  the  chief 
divisions  of  the  class  are  expressed.  These  several  names  spring- 
ing from  the  primitive  root,  themselves  become  the  parents  of 
other  names  still  further  modified.  And  by  the  aid  of  those 
systematic  modes  which  presently  arise,  of  making  derivatives 
and  forming  compound  terms  expressing  still  smaller  distinc- 
tions, there  is  finally  developed  a tribe  of  words  so  heterogeneous 
in  sound  and  meaning,  that  to  the  uninitiated  it  seem  incred- 
ible they  should  have  had  a common  origin.  Meanwhile,  from 
other  roots  there  are  being  evolved  other  such  tribes,  until  there 
results  a language  of  some  sixty  thousand  or  more  unlike  words, 
signifying  as  many  unlike  objects,  qualities,  acts.  Yet  another 
way  in  which  language  in  general  advances  from  the  homo- 
geneous to  the  heterogeneous,  is  in  the  multiplication  of  lan- 
guages. Whether,  as  Max  Muller  and  Bunsen  think,  all 
languages  have  grown  from  one  stock,  or  whether,  as  some  phi- 
lologists say,  they  have  grown  from  two  or  more  stocks,  it  is  clear 
that  since  large  families  of  languages,  as  the  Indo-European,  are 
of  one  parentage,  they  have  become  distinct  through  a process 
of  continuous  divergence.  The  same  diffusion  over  the  Earth’s 
surface  which  has  led  to  the  differentiation  of  the  race,  has 
simultaneously  led  to  a differentiation  of  their  speech:  a truth 
which  we  see  further  illustrated  in  each  nation  by  the  peculiari- 
ties of  dialect  found  in  separate  districts.  Thus  the  progress 
of  Language  conforms  to  the  general  law,  alike  in  the  evolution 
of  languages,  in  the  evolution  of  families  of  words,  and  in  the 
evolution  of  parts  of  speech. 

On  passing  from  spoken  to  written  language,  we  come  upon 
several  classes  of  facts,  all  having  similar  implications.  Written 
language  is  connate  with  Painting  and  Sculpture;  and  at  first 
all  three  are  appendages  of  Architecture,  and  have  a direct  con- 
nection with  the  primary  form  of  all  Government  — the  theo- 
cratic. Merely  noting  by  the  way  the  fact  that  sundry  wild 


302 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


races,  as  for  example,  the  Australians  and  the  tribes  of  South 
Africa,  are  giyen  to  depicting  personages  and  events  upon  the 
walls  of  caves,  which  are  probably  regarded  as  sacred  places,  let 
us  pass  to  the  case  of  the  Egyptians.  Among  them,  as  also 
among  the  Assyrians,  we  find  mural  paintings  used  to  decorate 
the  temple  of  the  god  and  the  palace  of  the  king  (which  were, 
indeed,  originally  identical)  ; and  as  such  they  were  govern- 
mental appliances  in  the  same  sense  that  state-pageants  and 
religious  feasts  were.  Further,  they  were  governmental  ap- 
pliances in  virtue  of  representing  the  worship  of  the  god,  the 
triumphs  of  the  god-king,  the  submission  of  his  subjects,  and  the 
punishment  of  the  rebellious.  And  yet  again  they  were  govern- 
mental, as  being  the  products  of  an  art  reverenced  by  the  people 
as  a sacred  mystery.  From  the  habitual  use  of  this  pictorial 
representation,  there  naturally  grew  up  the  but  slightly-modified 
practice  of  picture-writing  — a practice  which  was  found  still 
extant  among  the  Mexicans  at  the  time  they  were  discovered. 
By  abbreviations  analogous  to  those  still  going  on  in  our  own. 
written  and  spoken  language,  the  most  familiar  of  these  pic- 
tured figures  were  successively  simplified;  and  ultimately  there 
grew  up  a system  of  symbols,  most  of  which  had  but  a distant 
resemblance  to  the  things  for  which  they  stood.  The  inference 
that  the  hieroglyphics  of  the  Egyptians  were  thus  produced,  is 
confirmed  by  the  fact  that  the  picture-writing  of  the  Mexicans 
was  found  to  have  given  birth  to  a like  family  of  ideographic 
forms ; and  among  them,  as  among  the  Egyptians,  these  had  been 
partially  differentiated  into  the  Icuriological  or  imitative,  and  the 
tropical  or  symbolic:  which  were,  however,  used  together  in  the 
same  record.  In  Egypt,  written  language  underwent  a further 
differentiation;  whence  resulted  the  hieratic  and  the  epistolo- 
graphic  or  enchorial  both  of  which  are  derived  from  the  original 
hieroglyphic.  At  the  same  time  we  find  that  for  the  expression 
of  proper  names,  which  could  not  be  otherwise  conveyed,  phonetic 
symbols  were  employed;  and  though  it  is  alleged  that  the 
Egyptians  never  actually  achieved  complete  alphabetic  writing, 
yet  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  these  phonetic  symbols  oc- 
casionally used  in  aid  of  their  ideographic  ones,  were  the  germs 
out  of  which  alphabetic  writing  grew.  Once  having  become 
separate  from  hieroglyphics,  alphabetic  writing  itself  underwent 
numerous  differentiations  — - multiplied  alphabets  were  pro- 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


303 


cluced : between  most  of  which,  however,  more  or  less  connection 
can  still  be  traced.  And  in  each  civilized  nation  there  has  now 
grown  np,  for  the  representation  of  one  set  of  sounds,  several  sets 
of  written  signs,  used  for  distinct  purposes.  Finally,  through  a 
yet  more  important  differentiation  came  printing;  which,  uni- 
form in  kind  as  it  was  at  first,  has  since  become  multiform. 

§ 124.  While  written  language  was  passing  through  its 
earlier  stages  of  development,  the  mural  decoration  which  formed 
its  root  was  being  differentiated  into  Painting  and  Sculpture. 
The  gods,  kings,  men,  and  animals  represented,  were  originally 
marked  by  indented  outlines  and  colored.  In  most  cases  these 
outlines  were  of  such  depth,  and  the  object  they  circumscribed  so 
far  rounded  and  marked  out  in  its  leading  parts,  as  to  form  a 
species  of  work  intermediate  between  intaglio  and  bas-relief. 
In  other  cases  we  see  an  advance  upon  this : the  raised  spaces  be- 
tween the  figures  being  chiselled  off,  and  the  figures  themselves 
appropriately  tinted,  a painted  bas-relief  was  produced.  The 
restored  Assyrian  architecture  at  Sydenham,  exhibits  this  style 
of  art  carried  to  greater  perfection  — the  persons  and  things 
represented,  though  still  barbarously  colored,  are  carved  out 
with  more  truth  and  in  greater  detail;  and  in  the  winged  lions 
and  bulls  used  for  the  angles  of  gateways,  we  may  see  a con- 
siderable advance  toward  a completely  sculptured  figure;  which, 
nevertheless,  is  still  colored,  and  still  forms  part  of  the  building. 
But  while  in  Assyria  the  production  of  a statue  proper,  seems  to 
have  been  little,  if  at  all,  attempted,  we  may  trace  in  Egyptian 
art  the  gradual  separation  of  the  sculptured  figure  from  the  wall. 
A walk  through  the  collection  in  the  British  Museum  will  clearly 
show  this ; while  it  will  at  the  same  time  afford  an  opportunity  of 
observing  the  evident  traces  which  the  independent  statues  bear 
of  their  derivation  from  bas-relief : seeing  that  nearly  all  of 
them  not  only  display  that  union  of  the  limbs  with  the  body 
which  is  the  characteristic  of  bas-relief,  but  have  the  back  of 
the  statue  united  from  head  to  foot  with  a block  which  stands  in 
place  of  the  original  wall.  Greece  repeated  the  leading  stages 
of  this  progress.  As  in  Egypt  and  Assyria,  these  twin  arts  were 
at  first  united  with  each  other  and  with  their  parent.  Architec- 
ture; and  were  the  aids  of  Beligion  and  Government.  On  the 
friezes  of  Greek  temples,  we  see  colored  bas-reliefs  representing 


304 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


sacrifices,  battles,  processions,  games  — all  in  some  sort  religions. 
On  the  pediments  we  see  painted  sculptures  more  or  less  united 
with  the  tympanum,  and  having  for  subjects  the  triumphs  of 
gods  or  heroes.  Even  when  we  come  to  statues  that  are  definitely 
separated  from  the  buildings  to  which  they  pertain,  we  still  find 
them  colored ; and  only  in  the  later  periods  of  Greek  civiliza- 
tion, does  the  differentiation  of  sculpture  from  painting  appear 
to  have  become  complete.  In  Christian  art  we  may  clearly  trace 
a parallel  regenesis.  All  early  paintings  and  sculptures  through- 
out Europe  were  religious  in  subject  — represented  Christs, 
crucifixions,  virgins,  holy  families,  apostles,  saints.  They 
formed  integral  parts  of  church  architecture,  and  were  among  the 
means  of  exciting  worship : as  in  Roman  Catholic  countries  they 
still  are.  Moreover,  the  early  sculptures  of  Christ  on  the  cross, 
of  virgins,  of  saints,  were  colored ; and  it  needs  but  to  call  to 
mind  the  painted  madonnas  and  crucifixes  still  abundant  in  Con- 
tinental churches  and  highways,  to  perceive  the  significant  fact 
that  painting  and  sculpture  continue  in  closest  connection  with 
each  other,  where  they  continue  in  closest  connection  with  their 
parent.  Even  when  Christian  sculpture  was  pretty  clearly  dif- 
ferentiated from  painting,  it  was  still  religious  and  governmental 
in  its  subjects  — was  used  for  tombs  in  churches  and  statues  of 
kings ; while,  at  the  same  time,  painting,  where  not  purely  ec- 
clesiastical, was  applied  to  the  decoration  of  palaces,  and  besides 
representing  royal  personages,  was  almost  wholly  devoted  to 
sacred  legends.  Only  in  quite  recent  times  have  painting  and 
sculpture  become  entirely  secular  arts.  Only  within  these  few 
centuries  has  painting  been  divided  into  historical,  landscape, 
marine,  architectural,  genre,  animal,  still-life,  etc.,  and  sculpture 
grown  heterogeneous  in  respect  of  the  variety  of  real  and  ideal 
subjects  with  which  it  occupies  itself. 

Strange  as  it  seems  then,  we  find  it  no  less  true,  that  all  forms 
of  written  language,  of  painting,  and  of  sculpture,  have  a com- 
mon root  in  the  politico-religious  decorations  of  ancient  temples 
and  palaces.  Little  resemblance  as  they  now  have,  the  bust  that 
stands  on  the  console,  the  landscape  that  hangs  against  the  wall, 
and  the  copy  of  the  “ Times  ” lying  upon  the  table,  are  remotely 
akin  ; not  only  in  nature,  but  by  extraction.  The  brazen  face  of 
the  knocker  which  the  postman  has  just  lifted,  is  related  not  only 
to  the  woodcuts  of  the  “ Illustrated  London  News  ” which  he  is 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


305 


delivering,  but  to  the  characters  of  the  billet-doux  which  ac- 
companies it.  Between  the  painted  window,  the  prayer-book 
on  which  its  light  falls,  and  the  adjacent  monument,  there  is  con- 
sanguinity. The  effigies  on  our  coins,  the  signs  over  shops,  the 
figures  that  fill  every  ledger,  the  coat  of  arms  outside  the  carriage- 
panel,  and  the  placards  inside  the  omnibus,  are,  in  common  with 
dolls,  blue-books  and  paper-hangings,  lineally  descended  from 
the  rude  sculpture-paintings  in  which  the  Egyptians  represented 
the  triumphs  and  worship  of  their  god-kings.  Perhaps  no  ex- 
ample can  be  given  which  more  vividly  illustrates  the  multi- 
plicity and  heterogeneity  of  the  products  that  in  course  of  time 
may  arise  by  successive  differentiations  from  a common  stock. 

Before  passing  to  other  classes  of  facts,  it  should  be  observed 
that  the  evolution  of  the  homogeneous  into  the  heterogeneous  is 
displayed  not  only  in  the  separation  of  Painting  and  Sculpture 
from  Architecture  and  from  each  other,  and  in  the  greater 
variety  of  subjects  they  embody;  but  it  is  further  shown  in  the 
structure  of  each  work.  A modern  picture  or  statue  is  of  -far 
more  heterogeneous  nature  than  an  ancient  one.  An  Egyptian 
sculpture-fresco  represents  all  its  figures  as  on  one  plane  — that 
is,  at  the  same  distance  from  the  eye ; and  so  is  less  heterogeneous 
than  a painting  that  represents  them  as  at  various  distances  from 
the  eye.  It  exhibits  all  objects  as  exposed  to  the  same  degree  of 
light;  and  so  is  less  heterogeneous  than  a painting  which  ex- 
hibits different  objects,  and  different  parts  of  each  object,  as  in 
different  degrees  of  light.  It  uses  scarcely  any  but  the  primary 
colors,  and  these  in  their  full  intensity ; and  so  is  less  heterogene- 
ous than  a painting  which,  introducing  the  primary  colors  but 
sparingly,  employs  an  endless  variety  of  intermediate  tints, 
each  of  heterogeneous  composition,  and  differing  from  the 
rest  not  only  in  quality  but  in  intensity.  Moreover,  we  see 
in  these  earliest  works  a great  uniformity  of  conception.  The 
same  arrangement  of  figures  is  perpetually  reproduced — the  same 
actions,  attitudes,  faces,  dresses.  In  Egypt  the  modes  of  repre- 
sentation were  so  fixed  that  it  was  sacrilege  to  introduce  a 
novelty;  and  indeed  it  could  have  been  only  in  consequence  of  a 
fixed  mode  of  representation  that  a system  of  hieroglyphics  be- 
came possible.  The  Assyrian  bas-reliefs  display  parallel  char- 
acters. Deities,  .kings,  attendants,  winged-figures  and  animals, 
are  severally  depicted  in  like  positions,  holding  like  implements, 


306 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


doing  like  things,  and  with  like  expression  or  non-expression  of 
face.  If  a palm-grove  is  introduced,  all  the  trees  are  of  the 
same  height,  have  the  same  number  of  leaves,  and  are  equi- 
distant. When  water  is  imitated,  each  wave  is  a counterpart 
of  the  rest;  and  the  fish,  almost  always  of  one  kind,  are  evenly 
distributed  over  the  surface.  The  beards  of  the  kings,  the  gods, 
and  the  winged-figures,  are  everywhere  similar ; as  are  the  manes 
of  the  lions,  and  equally  so  those  of  the  horses.  Hair  is  repre- 
sented throughout  by  one  form  of  curl.  The  king’s  beard  is 
quite  architecturally  built  up  of  compounded  tiers  of  uniform 
curls,  alternating  with  twisted  tiers  placed  in  a transverse  direc- 
tion, and  arranged  with  perfect  regularity;  and  the  terminal 
tufts  of  the  bulls’  tails  are  represented  in  exactly  the  same  man- 
ner. Without  tracing  out  analogous  facts  in  early  Christian  art, 
in  which,  though  less  striking,  they  are  still  visible,  the  advance  in 
heterogeneity  will  be  sufficiently  manifest  on  remembering  that 
in  the  pictures  of  our  own  day  the  composition  is  endlessly 
varied;  the  attitudes,  faces,  expressions,  unlike;  the  subordinate 
objects  different  in  size,  form,  position,  texture;  and  more  or 
less  of  contrast  even  in  the  smallest  details.  Or,  if  we  com- 
pare an  Egyptian  statue,  seated  bolt  upright  on  a block,  with 
hands  on  knees,  fingers  outspread  and  parallel,  eyes  looking 
straight  forward,  and  the  two  sides  perfectly  symmetrical  in 
every  particular,  with  a statue  of  the  advanced  Greek  or  the 
modern  school,  which  is  asymmetrical  in  respect  of  the  position 
of  the  head,  the  body,  the  limbs,  the  arrangement  of  the  hair, 
dress,  appendages,  and  in  its  relations  to  neighboring  objects,  we 
shall  see  the  change  from  the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous 
clearly  manifested. 

§ 125.  In  the  co-ordinate  origin  and  gradual  differentiation 
of  Poetry,  Music,  and  Dancing,  we  have  another  series  of  illus- 
trations. Rhythm  in  speech,  rhythm  in  sound,  and  rhythm  in 
motion,  were,  in  the  beginning,  parts  of  the  same  thing;  and 
have  only  in  process  of  time  become  separate  things.  Among 
various  existing  barbarous  tribes  we  find  them  still  united.  The 
dances  of  savages  are  accompanied  by  some  kind  of  monotonous 
chant,  the  clapping  of  hands,  the  striking  of  rude  instruments : 
there  are  measured  movements,  measured  words,  and  measured 
tones;  and  the  whole  ceremony,  usually  having  reference  to  war 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


307 


or  sacrifice,  is  of  governmental  character.  In  the  early  records 
of  the  historic  races  we  similarly  find  these  three  forms  of 
metrical  action  united  in  religious  festivals.  In  the  Hebrew 
writings  we  read  that  the  triumphal  ode  composed  by  Moses  on 
the  defeat  of  the  Egyptians,  was  sung  to  an  accompaniment  of 
dancing  and  timbrels.  The  Israelites  danced  and  sung  “ at  the 
inauguration  of  the  golden  calf.  And  as  it  is  generally  agreed 
that  this  representation  of  the  Deity  was  borrowed  from  the 
mysteries  of  Apis,  it  is  probable  that  the  dancing  was  copied 
from  that  of  the  Egyptians  on  those  occasions.”  There  was  an 
annual  dance  in  Shiloh  on  the  sacred  festival ; and  David 
danced  before  the  Ark.  Again,  in  Greece  the  like  relation  is 
everywhere  seen:  the  original  type  being  there,  as  probably  in 
other  cases,  a simultaneous  chanting  and  mimetic  representation 
of  the  life  and  adventures  of  the  god.  The  Spartan  dances  were 
accompanied  by  hymns  and  songs ; and  in  general  the  Greeks  had 
“ no  festivals  or  religious  assemblies  but  what  were  accompanied 
with  songs  and  dances  ” — both  of  them  being  forms  of  worship 
used  before  altars.  Among  the  Romans,  too,  there  were  sacred 
dances : the  Salian  and  Lupercalian  being  named  as  of  that  kind. 
And  even  in  Christian  countries,  as  at  Limoges  in  compara- 
tively recent  times,  the  people  have  danced  in  the  choir  in 
honor  of  a saint.  The  incipient  separation  of  these  once  united 
arts  from  each  other  and  from  religion,  was  early  visible  in 
Greece.  Probably  diverging  from  dances  partly  religious,  partly 
Warlike,  as  the  Corybantian,  came  the  war-dances  proper,  of 
which  there  were  various  kinds ; and  from  these  resulted  secular 
dances.  Meanwhile  Music  and  Poetry,  though  still  united,  came 
to  have  an  existence  separate  from  dancing.  The  aboriginal 
Greek  poems,  religious  in  subject,  were  not  recited  but  chanted; 
and  though  at  first  the  chant  of  the  poet  was  accompanied  by 
the  dance  of  the  chorus,  it  ultimately  grew  into  independence. 
Later  still,  when  the  poem  had  been  differentiated  into  epic  and 
lyric  — when  it  became  the  custom  to  sing  the  lyric  and  recite 
the  epic  - — «poetry  proper  was  born.  As  during  the  same  period 
musical  instruments  were  being  multiplied,  we  may  presume 
that  music  came  to  have  an  existence  apart  from  words.  And 
both  of  them  were  beginning  to  assume  other  forms  besides  the 
religious.  Facts  having  like  implications  might  be  cited  from 
the  histories  of  later  times  and  peoples;  as  the  practices  of  our 


308 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


own  early  minstrels,  who  sang  to  the  harp  heroic  narratives 
versified  by  themselves  to  music  of  their  own  composition : thus 
uniting  the  now  separate  offices  of  poet,  composer,  vocalist  and 
instrumentalist.  But  without  further  illustration  the  common 
origin  and  gradual  differentiation  of  Dancing,  Poetry,  and  Music 
will  be  sufficiently  manifest. 

The  advance  from  the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous  is 
displayed  not  only  in  the  separation  of  these  arts  from  each 
other  and  from  religion,  but  also  in  the  multiplied  differentia- 
tions which  each  of  them  afterward  undergoes.  Not  to  dwell 
upon  the  numberless  kinds  of  dancing  that  have,  in  course  of 
time,  come  into  use;  and  not  to  occupy  space  in  detailing  the 
progress  of  poetry,  as  seen  in  the  development  of  the  various 
forms  of  metre,  of  rhyme,  and  of  general  organization;  let  us 
confine  our  attention  to  music  as  a type  of  the  group.  As 
argued  by  Dr.  Burney,  and  as  implied  by  the  customs  of  still 
extant  barbarous  races,  the  first  musical  instruments  were,  with- 
out doubt,  percussive  — sticks,  calabashes,  tom-toms  — and  were 
used  simply  to  mark  the  time  of  the  dance ; and  in  this  constant 
repetition  of  the  same  sound,  we  see  music  in  its  most  homo- 
geneous form.  The  Egyptians  had  a lyre  with  three  strings. 
The  early  lyre  of  the  Greeks  had  four,  constituting  their  tetra- 
chord.  In  course  of  some  centuries  lyres  of  seven  and  eight 
strings  were  employed.  And,  by  the  expiration  of  a thousand 
years,  they  had  advanced  to  their  “ great  system  ” of  the  double 
octave.  Through  all  which  changes  there  of  course  arose  a 
greater  heterogeneity  of  melody.  Simultaneously  there  came 
into  use  the  different  modes  — Dorian,  Ionian,  Phrygian, 
yEolian , and  Lydian  — answering  to  our  keys : and  of  these 
there  were  ultimately  fifteen.  As  yet,  however,  there  was  but 
little  heterogeneity  in  the  time  of  their  music.  Instrumental 
music  during  this  period  being  merely  the  accompaniment  of 
vocal  music,  and  vocal  music  being  completely  subordinated  to 
words  — the  singer  being  also  the  poet,  chanting  his  own  com- 
positions and  making  the  lengths  of  his  notes  agree  with  the 
feet  of  his  verses ; there  unavoidably  arose  a tiresome  uniformity 
of  measure,  which,  as  Dr.  Burney  says,  “ no  resources  of  melody 
could  disguise.”  Lacking  the  complex  rhythm  obtained  by  our 
equal  bars  and  unequal  notes,  the  only  rhythm  was  that  pro- 
duced by  the  quantity  of  the  syllables,  and  was  of  necessity 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


309 


comparatively  monotonous.  And  further,  it  may  be  observed 
that  the  cliant  thus  resulting,  being  like  recitative,  was  much  less 
clearly  differentiated  from  ordinary  speech  than  is  our  modern 
song.  Nevertheless,  considering  the  extended  range  of  notes  in 
use,  the  variety  of  modes,  the  occasional  variations  of  time  conse- 
quent on  changes  of  metre,  and  the  multiplication  of  instru- 
ments, we  see  that  music  had,  toward  the  close  of  Greek  civiliza- 
tion, attained  to  considerable  heterogeneity : not  indeed  as 
compared  with  our  music,  but  as  compared  with  that  which  pre- 
ceded it.  As  yet,  however,  there  existed  nothing  but  melody: 
harmony  was  unknown.  It  was  not  until  Christian  church- 
music  had  reached  some  develojjment,  that  music  in  parts  was 
evolved;  and  then  it  came  into  existence  through  a very  un- 
obtrusive differentiation.  Difficult  as  it  may  be  to  conceive, 
a prion,  how  the  advance  from  melody  to  harmony  could  take 
place  without  a sudden  leap,  it  is  none  the  less  true  that  it  did 
so.  The  circumstance  which  prepared  the  way  for  it,  was  the 
employment  of  two  choirs  singing  alternately  the  same  air. 
Afterward  it  became  the  practice  (very  possibly  first  suggested 
by  a mistake)  for  the  second  choir  to  commence  before  the  first 
had  ceased;  thus  producing  a fugue.  With  the  simple  airs  then 
in  use,  a partially  harmonious  fugue  might  not  improbably  thus 
result;  and  a.  very  partially  harmonious  fugue  satisfied  the  ears 
of  that  age,  as  we  know  from  still  preserved  examples.  The 
idea  having  once  been  given,  the  composing  of  airs  productive 
of  fugal  harmony  would  naturally  grow  up;  as  in  some  way  it 
did  grow  up  out  of  this  alternate  choir-singing.  And  from 
the  fugue  to  concerted  music  of  two,  three,  four,  and  more  parts, 
the  transition  was  easy.  Without  pointing  out  in  detail  the 
increasing  complexity  that  resulted  from  introducing  notes  of 
various  lengths,  from  the  multiplication  of  keys,  from  the  use 
of  accidentals,  from  varieties  of  time,  from  modulations  and  so 
forth,  it  needs  but  to  contrast  music  as  it  is,  with  music  as  it 
was,  to  see  how  immense  is  the  increase  of  heterogeneity.  We 
see  this  if,  looking  at  music  in  its  ensemble,  we  enumerate  its 
many  different  genera  and  species  — if  we  consider  the  divisions 
into  vocal,  instrumental,  and  mixed;  and  their  subdivisions  into 
music  for  different  voices  and  different  instruments  — if  we 
observe  the  many  forms  of  sacred  music,  from  the  simple  hymn, 
the  chant,  the  canon,  motet,  anthem,  etc.,  up  to  the  oratorio ; and 


310 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  still  more  numerous  forms  of  secular  music,  from  the  ballad 
up  to  the  serenata,  from  the  instrumental  solo  up  to  the  sym- 
phony. Again,  the  same  truth  is  seen  on  comparing  any  one 
sample  of  aboriginal  music  with  a sample  of  modern  music  — 
even  an  ordinary  sorTg  for  the  piano ; which  we  find  to  be  relat- 
ively highly  heterogeneous,  not  only  in  respect  of  the  varieties 
in  the  pitch  and  in  the  length  of  the  notes,  the  number  of  dif- 
ferent, notes  sounding  at  the  same  instant  in  company  with  the 
voice,  and  the  variations  of  strength  with  which  they  are  sounded 
and  sung,  but  in  respect  of  the  changes  of  key,  the  changes  of 
time,  the  changes  of  timbre  of  the  voice,  and  the  many  other 
modifications  of  expression.  While  between  the  old  monotonous 
dance-chant  and  a grand  opera,  of  our  own  day,  with  its  endless 
orchestral  complexities  and  vocal  combinations,  the  contrast  in 
heterogeneity  is  so  extreme  that  it  seems  scarcely  credible  that 
the  one  should  have  been  the  ancestor  of  the  other. 

§ 126.  Were  they  needed,  many  further  illustrations  might 
be  cited.  Going  back  to  the  early  time  when  the  deeds  of  the 
god-king,  chanted  and  mimetically  represented  in  dances  round 
his  altar,  were  further  narrated  in  picture  writings  on  the  walls 
of  temples  and  palaces,  and  so  constituted  a rude  literature,  we 
might  trace  the  development  of  Literature  through  phases  in 
which,  as  in  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  it  presents  in  one  work,  theo- 
logy, cosmogony,  history,  biography,  civil  law,  ethics,  poetry; 
through  other'  phases  in  which,  as  in  the  Iliad,  the  religious, 
martial,  historical,  the  epic,  dramatic,  and  lyric  elements  are 
similarly  commingled;  down  to  its  present  heterogeneous  de- 
velopment, in  which  its  divisions  and  subdivisions  are  so  numer- 
ous and  varied  as  to  defy  complete  classification.  Or  we  might 
track  the  evolution  of  Science : beginning  with  the  era  in  which 
it  was  not  yet  differentiated  from  Art,  and  was,  in  union  with 
Art,  the  handmaid  of  Religion;  passing  through  the  era  in 
which  the  sciences  were  so  few  and  rudimentary,  as  to  be  simul- 
taneously cultivated  by  the  same  philosophers;  and  ending  with 
the  era  in  which  the  genera  and  species  are  so  numerous  that 
few  can  enumerate  them,  and  no  one  can  adequately  grasp  even 
one  genus.  Or  we  might  do  the  like  with  Architecture,  with 
the  Drama,  with  Dress.  But  doubtless  the  reader  is  already 
weary  of  illustrations;  and  my  promise  has  be’en  amply  ful- 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


311 


filled.  I believe  it  has  been  shown  beyond  question,  that  that 
which  the  German  physiologists  have  found  to  be  a law  of 
organic  development,  is  a law  of  all  development.  The  advance 
from  the  simple  to  the  complex,  through  a process  of  successive 
differentiations,  is  seen  alike  in  the  earliest  changes  of  the 
Universe  to  which  we  can  reason  our  way  back,  and  in  the  earliest 
changes  which  we  can  inductively  establish;  it  is  seen  in  the 
geologic  and  climatic  evolution  of  the  Earth,  and  of  every  single 
organism  on  its  surface ; it  is  seen  in  the  evolution  of  Humanity, 
whether  contemplated  in  the  civilized  individual,  or  in  the  ag- 
gregations of  races;  it  is  seen  in  the  evolution  of  Society,  in 
respect  alike  of  its  political,  its  religious,  and  its  economical  or- 
ganization; and  it  is  seen  in  the  evolution  of  all  those  endless 
concrete  and  abstract  products  of  human  activity,  which  consti- 
tute the  environment  of  our  daily  life.  From  the  remotest  past 
which  Science  can  fathom,  up  to  the  novelties  of  yesterday,  an 
essential  trait  of  Evolution  has  been  the  transformation  of  the 
homogeneous  into  the  heterogeneous. 

§ 127.  Hence  the  general  formula  arrived  at  in  the  last  chap- 
ter needs  supplementing.  It  is  true  that  Evolution,  under  its 
primary  aspect,  is  a change  from  a less  coherent  form  to  a more 
coherent  form,  consequent  on  the  dissipation  of  motion  and  inte- 
gration of  matter;  but  this  is  by  no  means  the  whole  truth. 
Along  with  a passage  from  the  coherent  to  the  incoherent,  there 
goes  on  a passage  from  the  uniform  to  the  multiform.  Such,  at 
least,  is  the  fact  wherever  Evolution  is  compound;  which  it  is 
in  the  immense  majority  of  cases.  While  there  is  a progressing 
concentration  of  the  aggregate,  either  by  the  closer  approach  of 
the  matter  within  its  limits,  or  by  the  drawing  in  of  further 
matter,  or  by  both ; and  while  the  more  or  less  distinct  parts  into 
which  the  aggregate  divides  and  subdivides  are  severally  con- 
centrating ; these  parts  are  also  becoming  unlike  — unlike  in 
size,  or  in  form,  or  in  texture,  or  in  composition,  or  in  several  or 
all  of  these.  The  same  process  is  exhibited  by  the  whole  and  by 
its  members.  The  entire  mass  is  integrating,  and  simulta- 
neously differentiating  from  other  masses;  and  each  member  of 
it  is  also  integrating  and  simultaneously  differentiating  from 
other  members. 


312 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


Our  conception,  then,  must  unite  these  characters.  As  we 
now  understand  it.  Evolution  is  definable  as  a change  from  an 
incoherent  homogeneity  to  a coherent  heterogeneity,  accom- 
panying the  dissipation  of  motion  and  integration  of  matter. 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


313 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

THE  LAW  OP  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED. 

§ 128.  But  now,  does  this  generalization  express  the  whole 
truth  ? Does  it  include  everything  essentially  characterizing 
Evolution  and  exclude  everything  else  ? Does  it  comprehend  all 
the  phenomena  of  secondary  redistribution  which  Compound 
Evolution  presents,  without  comprehending  any  other  phe- 
nomena? A critical  examination  of  the  facts  will  show  that  it 
does  neither. 

Changes  from  the  less  heterogeneous  to  the  more  hetero- 
geneous, which  do  not  come  within  what  we  call  Evolution,  occur 
in  every  local  disease.  A portion  of  the  body  in  which  there 
arises  a morbid  growth,  displays  a new  differentiation.  Whether 
this  morbid  growth  be,  or  be  not,  more  heterogeneous  than  the 
tissues  in  which  it  is  seated,  is  not  the  question.  The  question 
is,  whether  the  organism  as  a whole  is,  or  is  not,  rendered  more 
heterogeneous  by  the  addition  of  a part  unlike  every  pre-existing 
part,  in  form,  or  composition,  or  both.  And  to  this  question 
there  can  be  none  but  an  affirmative  answer.  Again,  it  may  be 
contended  that  the  earlier  stages  of  decomposition  in  a dead 
body  involve  increase  of  heterogeneity.  Supposing  the  chemical 
changes  to  commence  in  some  parts  sooner  than  in  other  parts, 
as  they  commonly  do;  and  to  affect  different  tissues  in  different 
ways,  as  they  must;  it  seems  to  be  a necessary  admission  that 
the  entire  body,  made  up  of  undecomposed  parts  and  parts  de- 
composed in  various  modes  and  degrees,  has  become  more 
heterogeneous  than  it  was.  Though  greater  homogeneity  will 
be  the  eventual  result,  the  immediate  result  is  the  opposite. 
And  yet  this  immediate  result  is  certainly  not  Evolution.  Other 
instances  are  furnished  by  social  disorders  and  disasters.  A re- 
bellion, which,  while  leaving  some  provinces  undisturbed,  de- 
velops itself  here  in  secret  societies,  there  in  public  demonstra- 
tions, and  elsewhere  in  actual  conflicts,  necessarily  renders  the 


314 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


society,  as  a whole,  more  heterogeneous.  Or  when  a dearth 
causes  commercial  derangement  with  its  entailed  bankruptcies, 
closed  factories,  discharged  operatives,  food-riots,  incendiarisms ; 
it  is  manifest  that,  as  a large  part  of  the  community  retains  its 
ordinary  organization  displaying  the  usual  phenomena,  these 
new  phenomena  must  be  regarded  as  adding  to  the  complexity 
previously  existing.  But  such  changes,  so  far  from  constituting 
further  Evolution,  are  steps  toward  Dissolution. 

Clearly,  then,  the  definition  arrived  at  in  the  last  chapter  is 
an  imperfect  one.  The  changes  above  instanced  as  coming 
within  the  formula  as  it  now  stands,  are  so  obviously  unlike  the 
rest,  that  the  inclusion  of  them  implies  some  distinction  hitherto 
overlooked.  Such  further  distinction  we  have  now  to  supply. 

§ 129.  At  the  same  time  that  Evolution  is  a change  from 
the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous,  it  is  a change  from  the 
indefinite  to  the  definite.  Along  with  an  advance  from  sim- 
plicity to  complexity,  there  is  an  advance  from  confusion  to 
order  — from  undetermined  arrangement  to  determined  ar- 
rangement. Development,  no  matter  of  what  kind,  exhibits  not 
only  a multiplication  of  unlike  parts,  but  an  increase  in  the 
distinctness  with  which  these  parts  are  marked  off  from  one  an- 
other. And  this  is  the  distinction  sought.  Eor  proof,  it  needs 
only  to  reconsider  the  instances  given  above.  The  changes  con- 
stituting disease  have  no  such  definiteness,  either  in  locality,  ex- 
tent, or  outline,  as  the  changes  constituting  development : though 
certain  morbid  growths  are  more  common  in  some  parts  of  the 
body  than  in  others  (as  warts  on  the  hands,  cancer  on  the 
breasts,  tubercle  in  the  lungs),  yet  they  are  not  confined  to  these 
parts;  nor,  when  found  on  them,  are  they  anything  like  so 
precise  in  their  relative  positions  as  are  the  normal  parts  around 
them.  Their  sizes  are  extremely  variable:  they  bear  no  such 
constant  proportions  to  the  body  as  organs  do.  Their  forms,  too, 
are  far  less  specific  than  organic  forms.  And  they  are  ex- 
tremely confused  in  their  internal  structures.  That  is,  they  are 
in  all  respects  comparatively  indefinite.  The  like  peculiarity 
may  be  traced  in  decomposition.  That  total  indefiniteness  to 
which  a dead  body  is  finally  reduced,  is  a state  toward  which  the 
putrefactive  changes  tend  from  their  commencement.  The  ad- 
yancing  destruction  of  the  organic  compounds,  blurs  the  minute 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


315 


structure  — diminishes  its  distinctness.  From  the  portions  that 
have  undergone  most  decay,  there  is  a gradual  transition  to  the 
less  decayed  portions.  And  step  by  step  the  lines  of  organiza- 
tion, once  so  precise,  disappear.  Similarly  with  social  changes 
of  an  abnormal  kind.  The  disaffection  which  initiates  a politi- 
cal outbreak,  implies  a loosening  of  those  ties  by  which  citizens 
are  bound  up  into  distinct  classes  and  sub-classes.  Agitation, 
growing  into  revolutionary  meetings,  fuses  ranks  that  are  usually 
separated.  Acts  of  insubordination  break  through  the  ordained 
limits  to  individual  conduct;  and  tend  to  obliterate  the  lines 
previously  existing  between  those  in  authority  and  those  be- 
neath them.  At  the  same  time,  by  the  arrest  of  trade,  artisans 
and  others  lose  their  occupations ; and  in  ceasing  to  be  function- 
ally distinguished,  merge  into  an  indefinite  mass.  And  when 
at  last  there  comes  positive  insurrection,  all  magisterial  and 
official  powers,  all  class  distinctions,  and  all  industrial  differ- 
ences, cease : organized  society  lapses  into  an  unorganized  aggre- 
gation of  social  units.  Similarly,  in  so  far  as  famines  and  pes- 
tilences cause  changes  from  order  toward  disorder,  they  cause 
changes  from  definite  arrangements  to  indefinite  arrange- 
ments. 

Thus,  then,  is  that  increase  of  heterogeneity  which  con- 
stitutes Evolution,  distinguished  from  that  increase  of  hetero- 
geneity which  does  not  do  so.  Though  in  disease  and  death,  in- 
dividual or  social,  the  earliest  modifications  are  additions  to  the 
pre-existing  heterogeneity,  they  are  not  additions  to  the  pre- 
existing definiteness.  They  begin  from  the  very  outset  to  de- 
stroy this  definiteness;  and  gradually  produce  a heterogeneity 
that  is  indeterminate  instead  of  determinate.  As  a city,  already 
multiform  in  its  variously-arranged  structures  of  various  archi- 
tecture, may  be  made  more  multiform  by  an  earthquake,  which 
leaves  part  of  it  standing  and  overthrows  other  parts  in  different 
ways  and  degrees,  but  is  at  the  same  time  reduced  from  orderly 
arrangement  to  disorderly  arrangement ; so  may  organized  bodies 
be  made  for  a time  more  multiform  by  changes  which  are  never- 
theless disorganizing  changes.  And  in  the  one  case  as  in  an- 
other, it  is  the  absence  of  definiteness  which  distinguishes  the 
multiformity  of  regression  from  the  multiformity  of  progres- 
sion. 


316 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


If  advance  from  the  indefinite  to  the  definite  is  an  essential 
characteristic  of  Evolution,  we  shall  of  course  find  it  everywhere 
displayed ; as  in  the  last  chapter  we  found  the  advance  from  the 
homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous.  With  a view  of  seeing 
whether  it  is  so,  let  us  now  reconsider  the  same  several  classes  of 
facts. 

§ 130.  Beginning,  as  before,  with  a hypothetical  illustration, 
we  have  to  note  that  each  step  in  the  evolution  of  the  Solar 
System,  supposing  it  to  have  originated  from  diffused  matter, 
was  an  advance  toward  more  definite  structure.  At  first  irreg- 
ular in  shape  and  with  indistinct  margin,  the  attenuated  sub- 
stance, as  it  concentrated  and  began  to  rotate,  must  have  assumed 
the  form  of  an  oblate  spheroid,  which,  with  every  increase  of 
density,  became  more  specific  in  outline,  and  had  its  surface 
more  sharply  marked  off  from  the  surrounding  void.  Simul- 
taneously, the  constituent  portions  of  nebulous  matter,  instead  of 
moving  independently  toward  their  common  centre  of  gravity 
from  all  points,  and  revolving  round  it  in  various  planes,  as  they 
would  at  first  do,  must  have  had  these  planes  more  and  more 
merged  into  a single  plane,  that  became  less  variable  as  the 
concentration  progressed  — became  gradually  defined. 

According  to  the  hypothesis,  change  from  indistinct  characters 
to  distinct  ones,  was  repeated  in  the  evolution  of  planets  and 
satellites ; and  may  in  them  be  traced  much  further.  A gaseous 
spheroid  is  less  definitely  limited  than  a fluid  spheroid,  since  it  is 
subject  to  larger  and  more  rapid  undulations  of  surface,  and  to 
much  greater  distortions  of  general  form;  and,  similarly,  a 
liquid  spheroid,  covered  as  it  must  be  with  waves  of  various  mag- 
nitudes, is  less  definite  than  a solid  spheroid.  The  decrease  of 
oblateness  that  goes  along  with  increase  of  integration,  brings 
relative  definiteness  of  other  elements.  A planet  having  an  axis 
inclined  to  the  plane  of  its  orbit,  must,  while  its  form  is  very 
oblate,  have  its  plane  of  rotation  much  disturbed  by  the  at- 
traction of  external  bodies;  whereas  its  approach  to  a spherical 
form,  involving  a smaller  precessional  motion,  involves  less 
marked  variations  in  the  direction  of  its  axis. 

With  progressing  settlement  of  the  space-relations,  the  force- 
relations  simultaneously  become  more  settled.  The  exact  cal- 
culations of  physical  astronomy,  show  us  how  definite  these  force- 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


317 


relations  now  are;  while  tlieir  original  indefiniteness  is  implied 
in  the  extreme  difficulty,  if  not  impossibility,  of  subjecting  the 
nebular  hypothesis  to  mathematical  treatment. 

§ 131.  From  that  primitive  molten  state  of  the  Earth  in- 
ferable from  geological  data  — a state  accounted  for  by  the  nebu- 
lar hypothesis  but  inexplicable  on  any  other  — the  transition  to 
its  existing  state  has  been  through  stages  in  which  the  characters 
became  more  determinate.  Besides  being  comparatively  un- 
stable in  surface  and  contour,  a liquid  spheroid  is  less  specific 
than  a solid  spheroid  in  having  no  fixed  distribution  of  parts. 
Currents  of  molten  matter,  though  kept  to  certain  general  cir- 
cuits by  the  conditions  of  equilibrium,  cannot,  in  the  absence  of 
solid  boundaries,  be  precise  or  permanent  in  their  directions : all 
parts  must  be  in  motion  with  respect  to  other  parts.  But  a 
superficial  solidification,  even  though  partial,  is  manifestly  a 
step  toward  the  establishment  of  definite  relations  of  position. 
In  a thin  crust,  however,  frequently  ruptured  by  disturbing 
forces,  and  moved  by  every  tidal  undulation,  fixity  of  relative 
position  can  be  but  temporary.  Only  as  the  crust  thickens,  can 
there  arise  distinct  and  settled  geographical  relations.  Ob- 
serve, too,  that  when,  on  a surface  that  has  cooled  to  the  requisite 
degree,  there  begins  to  precipitate  the  water  floating  above  as 
vapor,  the  deposits  cannot  maintain  any  definiteness  either  of 
state  or  place.  Falling  on  a solid  envelope  not  thick  enough  to 
preserve  anything  beyond  slight  variations  of  level,  the  water 
must  form  shallow  pools  over  areas  sufficiently  cool  to  permit 
condensation;  which  areas  must  pass  insensibly  into  others  that 
are  too  hot  for  this,  and  must  themselves  from  time  to  time  be 
so  raised  in  temperature  as  to  drive  off  the  water  lying  on  them. 
With  progressing  refrigeration,  however  — with  a growing 
thickness  of  crust,  a consequent  formation  of  larger  elevations 
and  depressions,  and  the  precipitation  of  more  atmospheric 
water,  there  comes  an  arrangement  of  parts  that  is  comparatively 
fixed  in  both  time  and  space;  and  the  definiteness  of  state  and 
position  increases,  until  there  results  such  a distribution  of  conti- 
nents and  oceans  as  we  now  see  — a distribution  that  is  not  only 
topographically  precise,  but  also  in  its  cliff -marked  coast-lines 
presents  divisions  of  land  from  water  more  definite  than  could 
have  existed  when  all  the  uncovered  areas  were  low  islands  with 


31S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


shelving  beaches,  over  which  the  tide  ebbed  and  flowed  to  great 
distances. 

Kespecting  the  characteristics  classed  as  geological,  we  may 
draw  parallel  inferences.  While  the  Earth’s  crust  was  thin, 
mountain-chains  were  impossibilities : there  could  not  have  been 
long  and  well-defined  axes  of  elevation,  with  distinct  water- 
sheds and  areas  of  drainage.  Morever,  the  denudation  of  small 
islands  by  small  rivers,  and  by  tidal  streams  both  feeble  and 
narrow,  would  produce  no  clearly-marked  sedimentary  strata. 
Confused  and  varying  masses  of  detritus,  such  as  we  now  find  at 
the  mouths  of  brooks,  must  have  been  the  prevailing  formations. 
And  these  could  give  place  to  distinct  strata,  only  as  there  arose 
continents  and  oceans,  with  their  great  rivers,  long  coast-lines, 
and  wide-spreading  marine  currents. 

How  there  must  simultaneously  have  resulted  more  definite 
meteorological  characters,  need  not  be  pointed  out  in  detail. 
That  differences  of  climates  and  seasons  grew  relatively  decided 
as  the  heat  of  the  Sun  became  distinguishable  from  the  proper 
heat  of  the  Earth;  and  that  the  production  of  more  specific  con- 
ditions in  each  locality  was  aided  by  increasing  permanence  in 
the  distribution  of  lands  and  seas;  are  conclusions  sufficiently 
obvious. 

§ 132.  Let  us  turn  now  to  the  evidence  furnished  by  organic 
bodies.  In  place  of  deductive  illustrations  like  the  foregoing, 
we  shall  here  find  numerous  illustrations  which  have  been  in- 
ductively established,  and  are  therefore  less  open  to  criticism. 
The  process  of  mammalian  development,  for  example,  will  sup- 
ply us  with  numerous  proofs  ready-described  by  embryologists. 

The  first  change  which  the  ovum  of  a mammal  undergoes 
after  continued  segmentation  has  reduced  its  yelk  to  a mul- 
berry-like mass,  is  the  appearance  of  a greater  definiteness  in  the 
peripheral  cells  of  this  mass;  each  of  which  acquires  a distinct 
enveloping  membrane.  These  peripheral  cells,  vaguely  distin- 
guished from  the  internal  ones  by  their  minuter  sub-division  as 
well  as  by  their  greater  completeness,  coalesce  to  form  the 
blastoderm  or  germinal  membrane.  Presently,  one  portion  of 
this  membrane  is  rendered  unlike  the  rest  by  the  accumulation 
of  cells  still  more  subdivided,  which,  together,  form  an  opaque 
roundish  spot.  This  area  germinativa , as  it  is  called,  shades  off 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


319 


gradually  into  the  surrounding  parts  of  the  blastoderm ; and  the 
area  pellucida , subsequently  formed  in  the  midst  of  it,  is  simi- 
larly without  precise  margin.  The  “ primitive  trace/’  which 
makes  its  appearance  in  the  centre  of  the  area  pellucida , and  is 
the  rudiment  of  that  vertebrate  axis  which  is  to  be  the  funda- 
mental characteristic  of  the  mature  animal,  is  shown  by  its  name 
to  be  at  first  indefinite  — a mere  trace.  Beginning  as  a shal- 
low groove,  it  becomes  slowly  more  pronounced:  its  sides  grow 
higher;  their  summits  overlap,  and  at  last  unite;  and  so  the 
indefinite  groove  passes  into  a definite  tube,  forming  the  verte- 
bral canal.  In  this  vertebral  canal  the  leading  divisions  of  the 
brain  are  at  first  discernible  only  as  slight  bulgings;  while  the 
vertebrae  commence  as  indistinct  modifications  of  the  tissue 
bounding  the  canal.  Simultaneously,  the  outer  surface  of  the 
blastoderm  has  been  differentiating  from  the  inner  surface: 
there  has  arisen  a division  into  the  serous  and  mucous  layers  — 
a division  at  the  outset  indistinct,  and  traceable  only  about 
the  germinal  area,  but  which  insensibly  spreads  throughout 
nearly  the  whole  germinal  membrane,  and  becomes  definite. 
From  the  mucous  layer,  the  development  of  the  alimentary  canal 
proceeds  as  that  of  the  vertebral  canal  does  from  the  serous 
layer.  Originally  a simple  channel  along  the  under  surface 
of  the  embryonic  mass,  the  intestine  is  rendered  distinct  by  the 
bending  down,  on  each  side,  of  ridges  which  finally  join  to 
form  a tube  — the  permanent  absorbing  surface  is  by  degrees 
cut  off  from  that  temporary  absorbing  surface  with  which  it 
was  continuous  and  uniform.  And  in  an  analogous  manner  the 
entire  embryo,  which  at  first  lies  outspread  on  the  yelk-sack, 
gradually  rises  up  from  it,  and  by  the  infolding  of  its  ventral  re- 
gion, becomes  a separate  mass,  connected  with  the  yelk-sack  only 
by  a narrow  duct. 

These  changes  through  which  the  general  structure  is  marked 
out  with  slowly-increasing  precision,  are  paralleled  in  the  evo- 
lution of  each  organ.  The  heart  begins  as  a mere  aggregation 
of  cells,  of  which  the  inner  liquefy  to  form  blood,  while  the 
outer  are  transformed  into  the  walls;  and  when  thus  sketched 
out,  the  heart  is  indefinite  not  only  as  being  unlined  by  limit- 
ing membrane,  but  also  as  being  little  more  than  a dilatation  of 
the  central  blood-vessel.  By  and  by  the  receiving  portion  of 
the  cavity  becomes  distinct  from  the  propelling  portion.  After- 


320 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ward  there  begins  to  grow  across  the  ventricle,  a septum,  which 
is,  however,  some  time  before  it  shuts  off  the  two  halves  from 
each  other;  while  the  later-formed  septum  of  the  auricle  re- 
mains incomplete  during  the  whole  of  foetal  life.  Again,  the 
liver  commences  by  multiplication  of  certain  cells  in  the  wall 
of  the  intestine.  The  thickening  produced  by  this  multipli- 
cation “ increases  so  as  to  form  a projection  upon  the  exterior 
of  the  canal  ” ; and  at  the  same  time  that  the  organ  grows  and 
becomes  distinct  from  the  intestine,  the  channels  running 
through  it  are  transformed  into  ducts  having  clearly-marked 
walls.  Similarly,  certain  cells  of  the  external  coat  of  the  ali- 
mentary canal  at  its  upper  portion,  accumulate  into  lumps 
or  buds  from  which  the  lungs  are  developed;  and  these,  in 
their  general  outlines  and  detailed  structure,  acquire  distinct- 
ness step  by  step. 

Changes  of  this  order  continue  long  after  birth;  and,  in  the 
human  being,  are  some  of  them  not  completed  till  middle 
life.  During  youth,  most  of  the  articular  surfaces  of  the  bones 
remain  rough  and  fissured  — the  calcareous  deposit  ending 
irregularly  in  the  surrounding  cartilage.  But  between  puberty 
and  the  age  of  thirty,  these  articular  surfaces  are  finished  off 
into  smooth,  hard,  sharply-cut  “ epiphyses.”  Generally,  indeed, 
we  may  say  that  increase  of  definiteness  continues  when  there 
has  ceased  to  be  any  appreciable  increase  of  heterogeneity.  And 
there  is  reason  to  think  that  those  modifications  which  take  place 
after  maturity,  bringing,  about  old  age  and  death,  are  modifica- 
tions of  this  nature;  since  they  cause  rigidity  of  structure, 
a consequent  restriction  of  movement  and  of  functional  plia- 
bility, a gradual  narrowing  of  the  limits  within  which  the  vital 
processes  go  on,  ending  in  an  organic  adjustment  too  precise  — 
too  narrow  in  its  margin  of  possible  variation  to  permit  the 
requisite  adaptation  to  changes  of  external  conditions. 

§ 133.  To  prove  that  the  Earth’s  Flora  and  Fauna,  re- 
garded either  as  wholes  or  in  their  separate  species,  have  pro- 
gressed in  definiteness,  is  no  more  possible  than  it  was  to  prove 
that  they  have  progressed  in  heterogeneity:  lack  of  facts  being 
an  obstacle  to  the  one  conclusion  as  to  the  other.  If,  however, 
we  allow  ourselves  to  reason  from  the  hypothesis,  now  daily 
rendered  more  probable,  that  every  species,  up  to  the  most  com- 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


821 


plex,  has  arisen  out  of  the  simplest  through  the  accumulation 
of  modifications  upon  modifications,  just  as  every  individual 
arises ; we  shall  see  that  there  must  have  been  a progress 
from  the  indeterminate  to  the  determinate,  both  in  the  particular 
forms  and  in  the  groups  of  forms. 

We  may  set  out  with  the  significant  fact  that  the  lowest  or- 
ganisms (which  are  analogous  in  structure  to  the  germs  of 
all  higher  ones)  have  so  little  definiteness  of  character  that  it 
is  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  decide  whether  they  are  plants 
or  animals.  Respecting  sundry  of  them  there  are  unsettled 
disputes  between  zoologists  and  botanists;  and  it  is  proposed 
to  group  them  into  a separate  kingdom,  forming  a common 
basis  to  the  animal  and  vegetal  kingdoms.  Note  next  that 
among  the  Protozoa , extreme  indefiniteness  of  shape  is  general. 
In  sundry  shell-less  Rhizopods  the  form  is  so  irregular  as  to 
admit  of  no  description ; and  it  is  neither  alike  in  any  two 
individuals  nor  in  the  same  individual  at  successive  moments. 
By  aggregation  of  such  creatures,  are  produced,  among  other 
indefinite  bodies,  the  Sponges  — bodies  that  are  indefinite  in 
size,  in  contour,  in  internal  arrangement.  As  further  show- 
ing how  relatively  indeterminate  are  the  simplest  organisms, 
it  may  be  mentioned  that  their  structures  vary  greatly  with 
surrounding  conditions:  so  much  so  that,  among  the  Protozoa 
and  Protopliyta , many  forms  which  were  once  classed  as  dis- 
tinct species,  and  even  as  distinct  genera,  are  found  to  be  merely 
varieties  of  one  species.  If  now  we  call  to  mind  how  precise 
in  their  attributes  are  the  highest  organisms  — how  sharply  cut 
their  outlines,  how  invariable  their  proportions,  and  how  com- 
paratively constant  their  structures  under  changed  conditions, 
we  cannot  deny  that  greater  definiteness  is  one  of  their  charac- 
teristics. We  must  admit  that  if  they  have  been  evolved  out 
of  lower  organisms,  an  increase  of  definiteness  has  been  an 
accompaniment  of  their  evolution. 

That,  in  course  of  time,  species  have  become  more  sharply 
marked  off  from  other  species,  genera  from  genera,  and  orders 
from  orders,  is  a conclusion  not  admitting  of  a more  positive 
establishment  than  the  foregoing;  and  must,  indeed,  stand 
or  fall  with  it.  If,  however,  species  and  genera  and  orders 
have  arisen  by  “ natural  selection,”  then,  as  Mr.  Darwin  shows, 
there  must  have  been  a tendency  to  divergence^  causing  the 


322 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


contrasts  between  groups  to  become  greater.  Disappearance  of 
intermediate  forms,  less  fitted  for  special  spheres  of  existence 
than  the  extreme  forms  they  connected,  must  have  made  the  dif- 
ferences between  the  extreme  forms  decided ; and  so,  from  indis- 
tinct and  unstable  varieties,  must  slowly  have  been  produced 
distinct  and  stable  species  — an  inference  which  is  in  harmony 
with  what  we  know  respecting  races  of  men  and  races  of  domes- 
tic animals. 

§ 134.  The  successive  phases  through  which  societies  pass, 
very  obviously  display  the  progress  from  indeterminate  arrange- 
ment to  determinate  arrangement.  A wandering  tribe  of  sav- 
ages, being  fixed  neither  in  its  locality  nor  in  its  internal  dis- 
tribution, is  far  less  definite  in  the  relative  positions  of  its 
parts  than  a nation.  In  such  a tribe  the  social  relations  are 
similarly  confused  and  unsettled.  Political  authority  is  neither 
well  established  nor  precise.  Distinctions  of  rank  are  neither 
clearly  marked  nor  impassable.  And  save  in  the  different 
occupations  of  men  and  women,  there  are  no  complete  industrial 
divisions.  Only  in  tribes  of  considerable  size,  which  have 
enslaved  other  tribes,  is  the  economical  differentiation  decided. 

Any  one  of  these  primitive  societies,  however,  that  evolves, 
becomes  step  by  step  more  specific.  Increasing  in  size,  con- 
sequently ceasing  to  be  so  nomadic,  and  restricted  in  its  range 
by  neighboring  societies,  it  acquires,  after  prolonged  border 
warfare,  a settled  territorial  boundary.  The  distinction  be- 
tween the  royal  race  and  the  people,  eventually  amounts  in 
the  popular  apprehension  to  a difference  of  nature.  The  war- 
rior-class attains  a perfect  separation  from  classes  devoted  to  the 
cultivation  of  the  soil,  or  other  occupations  regarded  as  servile. 
And  there  arises  a priesthood  that  is  defined  in  its  rank,  its 
functions,  its  privileges.  This  sharpness  of  definition,  growing 
both  greater  and  more  variously  exemplified  as  societies  ad- 
vance to  maturity,  is  extremest  in  those  that  have  reached  their 
full  development  or  are  declining.  Of  ancient  Egypt  we  read 
that  its  social  divisions  were  precise  and  its  customs  rigid. 
Recent  investigations  make  it  more  than  ever  clear,  that  among 
the  Assyrians  and  surrounding  peoples,  not  only  were  the  laws 
unalterable,  but  even  the  minor  habits,  down  to  those  of  do- 
mestic routine,  possessed  a sacredness  which  insured  their  per- 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


323 


manence.  In  India  at  the  present  day  the  unchangeable  dis- 
tinctions of  caste,  not  less  than  the  constancy  in  modes  of 
dress,  industrial  processes,  and  religions  observances,  show  us 
how  fixed  are  the  arrangements  where  the  antiquity  is  great; 
nor  does  China,  with  its  long-settled  political  organization,  its 
elaborate  and  precise  conventions,  and  its  unprogressive  litera- 
ture, fail  to  exemplify  the  same  truth. 

The  successive  phases  of  our  own  and  adjacent  societies, 
furnish  facts  somewhat  different  in  kind  but  similar  in  mean- 
ing. Originally,  monarchical  authority  was  more  baronial,  and 
baronial  authority  more  monarchical,  than  afterward.  Between 
modern  priests  and  the  priests  of  old  times,  who  while  officially 
teachers  of  religion  were  also  warriors,  judges,  architects,  there 
is  a marked  difference  in  definiteness  of  function.  And  among 
the  people  engaged  in  productive  occupations,  the  like  contrasts 
would  be  found  to  hold:  the  industrial  class  has  become  more 
distinct  from  the  military;  and  its  various  divisions  from  one 
another.  A history  of  our  constitution,  reminding  us  how  the 
powers  of  King,  Lords,  and  Commons,  have  been  gradually  set- 
tled, would  clearly  exhibit  analogous  changes.  Countless  facts 
bearing  the  like  construction,  would  meet  us  were  we  to  trace 
the  development  of  legislation ; in  the  successive  stages  of  which 
we  should  find  statutes  gradually  rendered  more  specific  in  their 
applications  to  particular  cases.  Even  now  we  see  that  each 
new  law,  beginning  as  a vague  proposition,  is,  in  the  course 
of  enactment,  elaborated  into  specific  clauses ; and  further 
that  only  after  its  interpretation  has  been  established  by  judges’ 
decisions  in  courts  of  justice,  does  it  reach  its  final  definiteness. 
From  the  annals  of  minor  institutions  like  evidence  may  be 
gathered.  Religious,  charitable,  literary,  and  all  other  societies, 
starting  with  ends  and  methods  roughly  sketched  out  and  easily 
modifiable,  show  us  how,  by  the  accumulation  of  rules  and 
precedents,  the  purposes  become  more  distinct  and  the  modes 
of  action  more  restricted,  until  at  last  decay  follows  a fixity 
which  admits  of  no  adaptation  to  new  conditions.  Should  it 
be  objected  that  among  civilized  nations  there  are  examples  of 
decreasing  definiteness  (instance  the  breaking  down  of  limits 
between  ranks),  the  reply  is,  that  such  apparent  exceptions  are 
the  accompaniments  of  a social  metamorphosis  — a change  from 
the  military  or  predatory  type  of  social  structure  to  the  indus- 


324 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


trial  or  mercantile  type,  during  which  the  old  lines  of  organiza- 
tion are  disappearing  and  the  new  ones  becoming  more  marked. 

§ 135.  All  organized  results  of  social  action,  all  super- 
organic  structures,  pass  through  parallel  phases.  Being,  as  they 
are,  objective  products  of  subjective  processes,  they  must  display 
corresponding  changes;  and  that  they  do  this  the  cases  of 
Language,  of  Science,  of  Art,  clearly  prove. 

Strike  out  from  our  sentences  everything  but  nouns  and  verbs, 
and  there  stands  displayed  the  vagueness  characterizing  unde- 
veloped tongues.  When  we  note  how  each  inflection  of  a verb, 
or  addition  by  which  the  case  of  a norm  is  marked,  serves  to 
limit  the  conditions  of  action  or  of  existence,  we  see  that  these 
constituents  of  speech  enable  men  to  communicate  their  thoughts 
more  precisely.  That  the  application  of  an  adjective  to  a noun 
or  an  adverb  to  a verb  narrows  the  class  of  things  or  changes 
indicated,  implies  that  the  additional  word  serves  to  make  the 
proposition  more  distinct.  And  similarly  with  other  parts  of 
speech. 

The  like  effect  results  from  the  multiplication  of  words  of 
each  order.  When  the  names  for  objects,  and  acts,  and  qualities, 
are  but  few,  the  range  of  each  is  proportionately  wide,  and  its 
meaning  therefore  unspecific.  The  similes  and  metaphors  so 
much  used  by  aboriginal  races  indirectly  and  imperfectly  sug- 
gest ideas,  which  they  cannot  express  directly  and  perfectly  from 
lack  of  words.  Or,  to  take  a case  from  ordinary  life : if  we  com- 
pare the  speech  of  the  peasant,  who,  out  of  his  limited  vocabu- 
lary, can  describe  the  contents  of  the  bottle  he  carries  only  as 
“ doctor’s  stuff,”  which  he  has  got  for  his  “ sick  ” wife,  with 
the  speech  of  the  physician,  who  tells  those  educated  like  him- 
self the  particular  composition  of  the  medicine,  and  the  par- 
ticular disorder  for  which  he  has  prescribed  it,  we  have  vividly 
brought  home  to  us  the  precision  which  language  gains  by  the 
multiplication  of  terms. 

Again,  in  the  course  of  its  evolution,  each  tongue  acquires 
a further  accuracy  through  processes  which  fix  the  meaning 
of  each  word.  Intellectual  intercourse  slowly  diminishes  laxity 
of  expression.  By  and  by  dictionaries  give  definitions.  And 
eventually,  among  the  most  cultivated,  indefiniteness  is  not  tol- 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


325 


erated,  either  in  the  terms  used  or  in  their  grammatical  com- 
binations. 

Once  more,  languages  considered  as  wholes  become  gradually 
more  sharply  marked  off  from  one  another,  and  from  their 
common  parent ; as  witness,  in  early  times,  the  divergence  from 
the  same  root  of  two  languages  so  unlike  as  Greek  and  Latin, 
and  in  later  times  the  development  of  three  Latin  dialects  into 
Italian,  French,  and  Spanish. 

§ 136.  In  his  “ History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,”  Dr.  Whe- 
well  says  that  the  Greeks  failed  in  physical  philosophy  because 
their  “ ideas  were  not  distinct  and  appropriate  to  the  facts.” 
I do  not  quote  this  remark  for  its  luminousness,  since  it  would 
be  equally  proper  to  ascribe  the  indistinctness  and  inappropriate- 
ness of  their  ideas  to  the  imperfection  of  their  physical  philo- 
sophy; but  I quote  it  because  it  serves  as  good  evidence  of  the 
indefiniteness  of  primitive  science.  The  same  work  and  its  fel- 
low on  “ The  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences  ” supply 
other  evidences  equally  good,  because  equally  independent  of 
any  such  hypothesis  as  is  here  to  be  established.  Respecting 
mathematics,  we  have  the  fact  that  geometrical  theorems  grew 
out  of  empirical  methods;  and  that  these  theorems,  at  first  iso- 
lated, did  not  acquire  the  clearness  which  complete  demonstra- 
tion gives,  until  they  were  arranged  by  Euclid  into  a series  of 
dependent  propositions.  At  a later  period,  the  same  general 
truth  was  exemplified  in  the  progress  from  the  “method  of 
exhaustions  ” and  the  “ method  of  indivisibles  ” to  the  “ method 
of  limits  ” ; which  is  the  central  idea  of  the  infinitesimal  cal- 
culus. In  early  mechanics,  too,  may  be  traced  a dim  perception 
that  action  and  reaction  are  equal  and  opposite;  though,  for 
ages  after,  this  truth  remained  unformulated.  And  similarly, 
the  property  of  inertia,  though  not  distinctly  comprehended  until 
Kepler  lived,  was  vaguely  recognized  long  previously.  “ The 
conception  of  statical  force,”  “was  never  presented  in  a dis- 
tinct form  till  the  works  of  Archimedes  appeared  ” ; and  “ the 
conception  of  accelerating  force  was  confused,  in  the  mind  of 
Kepler  and  his  contemporaries,  and  did  not  become  clear  enough 
for  purposes  of  sound  scientific  reasoning  before  the  succeed- 
ing century.”  To  which  specific  assertions  may  be  added  the 
general  remark,  that  “terms  which  originally,  and  before  the 


S2G 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


laws  of  motion  were  fully  known,  were  used  in  a very  vague 
and  fluctuating  sense,  were  afterward  limited  and  rendered 
precise.”  When  we  turn  from  abstract  scientific  conceptions  to 
the  concrete  previsions  of  science,  of  which  astronomy  furnishes 
numerous  examples,  a like  contrast  is  visible.  The  times  at 
which  celestial  phenomena  will  occur,  have  been  predicted  with 
ever-increasing  accuracy.  Errors  once  amounting  to  days  are 
now  diminished  to  seconds.  The  correspondence  between  the 
real  and  supposed  forms  of  orbits,  has  been  gradually  ren- 
dered more  precise.  Originally  thought  circular,  then  epicyclic- 
al,  then  elliptical,  orbits  are  now  ascertained  to  be  curves  which 
always  deviate  from  perfect  ellipses,  and  are  ever  undergoing 
changes. 

But  the  general  advance  of  Science  in  definiteness,  is  best 
shown  by  the  contrast  between  its  qualitative  stage,  and  its 
quantitative  stage.  At  first  the  facts  ascertained  were,  that 
between  such  and  such  phenomena  some  connection  existed  — 
that  the  appearances  a and  b always  occurred  together  or  in 
succession;  but  it  was  known  neither  what  was  the  nature  of 
the  relation  between  a and  b,  nor  how  much  of  a accompanied 
so  much  of  b.  The  development  of  Science  has  in  part  been 
the  reduction  of  these  vague  connections  to  distinct  ones.  Most 
relations  have  been  classed  as  mechanical,  chemical,  thermal, 
electric,  magnetic,  etc. ; and  we  have  learned  to  infer  the 
amounts  of  the  antecedents  and  consequents  from  each  other 
with  exactness.  Of  illustrations,  some  furnished  by  physics 
have  been  given ; and  from  other  sciences  plenty  may  be  added. 
We  have  positively  ascertained  the  constituents  of  numerous  com- 
pounds which  our  ancestors  could  not  analyze,  and  of  a far 
greater  number  which  they  never  even  saw;  and  the  combining 
equivalents  of  these  elements  are  accurately  calculated.  Physi- 
ology shows  advance  from  qualitative  to  quantitative  prevision 
in  the  weighing  and  measuring  of  organic  products,  and  of  the 
materials  consumed ; as  well  as  in  measurement  of  functions  by 
the  spirometer  and  the  sphygmograph.  By  Pathology  it  is  dis- 
played in  the  use  of  the  statistical  method  of  determining  the 
sources  of  diseases,  and  the  effects  of  treatment.  In  Botany 
and  Zoology,  the  numerical  comparisons  of  Eloras  and  Faunas, 
leading  to  specific  conclusions  respecting  their  sources  and 
distributions,  illustrate  it.  And  in  Sociology,  questionable  as 


TIIE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


327 


are  the  conclusions  usually  drawn  from  the  classified  sum -totals 
of  the  census,  from  Board-of-Trade  tables,  and  from  criminal 
returns,  it  must  be  admitted  that  these  imply  a progress  toward 
more  accurate  conceptions  of  social  phenomena. 

That  an  essential  characteristic  of  advancing  Science  is  in- 
crease in  definiteness,  appears  indeed  almost  a truism,  when  we 
remember  that  Science  may  be  described  as  definite  knowledge, 
in  contradistinction  to  that  indefinite  knowledge  possessed  by 
the  uncultured.  And  if,  as  we  cannot  question,  Science  has,  in 
the  course  of  ages,  been  evolved  out  of  this  indefinite  knowledge 
of  the  uncultured,  then  the  gradual  acquirement  of  that  great 
definiteness  which  now  distinguishes  it  must  have  been  a leading 
trait  in  its  evolution. 

§ 137.  The  Arts,  industrial  and  aesthetic,  supply  illustra- 
tions perhaps  still  more  striking.  Flint  implements  of  the 
kind  recently  found  in  certain  of  the  later  geologic  deposits 
show  the  extreme  want  of  precision  in  men’s  first  handiworks. 
Though  a great  advance  on  these  is  seen  in  the  tools  and 
weapons  of  existing  savage  tribes,  yet  an  inexactness  in  forms 
and  fittings  distinguishes  such  tools  and  weapons  from  those 
of  civilized  races.  In  a smaller  degree,  the  productions  of  the 
less-advanced  nations  are  characterized  by  like  defects.  A Chi- 
nese junk,  with  all  its  contained  furniture  and  appliances,  no- 
where presents  a line  that  is  quite  straight,  a uniform  curve,  or 
a true  surface.  Nor  do  the  utensils  and  machines  of  our  an- 
cestors fail  to  exhibit  a similar  inferiority  to  our  own.  An  an- 
tique chair,  an  old  fireplace,  a lock  of  the  last  century,  or  almost 
any  article  of  household  use  that  has  been  preserved  for  a few 
generations,  proves  by  contrast  how  greatly  the  industrial  prod- 
ucts of  our  time  excel  those  of  the  past  in  their  accuracy.  Since 
planing-machines  have  been  invented  it  has  become  possible 
to  produce  absolutely  straight  lines,  and  surfaces  so  truly 
level  as  to  be  air-tight  when  applied  to  each  other.  While  in 
the  dividing-engine  of  Troughton,  in  the  micrometer  of  Whit- 
worth, and  in  the  microscopes  that  show  fifty  thousand  divisions 
to  the  inch,  we  have  an  exactness  as  far  exceeding  that  reached 
in  the  works  of  our  great  grandfathers  as  theirs  exceeded  that 
of  the  aboriginal  celt-makers. 

In  the  Fine  Arts  there  has  been  a parallel  progress.  From 


328 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  rudely-carved  and  painted  idols  of  savages,  through  the 
early  sculptures  characterized  by  limbs  without  muscular  de- 
tail, wooden-looking  drapery,  and  faces  devoid  of  individuality, 
up  to  the  later  statues  of  the  Greeks  or  some  of  those  now 
produced,  the  increased  accuracy  of  representation  is  conspicu- 
ous. Compare  the  mural  paintings  of  the  Egyptians  with  the 
paintings  of  mediaeval  Europe,  or  these  with  modern  paintings, 
and  the  more  precise  rendering  of  the  appearances  of  objects  is 
manifest.  It  is  the  same  with  fiction  and  the  drama.  In  the 
marvelous  tales  current  among  Eastern  nations,  in  the  romantic 
legends  of  feudal  Europe,  as  well  as  in  the  mystery-plays  and 
those  immediately  succeeding  them,  we  see  great  want  of  cor- 
respondence to  the  realities  of  life  — alike  in  the  predominance 
of  supernatural  events,  in  the  extremely  improbable  coinci- 
dences, and  in  the  vaguely-indicated  personages.  Along  with 
social  advance  there  has  been  a progressive  diminution  of  un- 
naturalness — an  approach  to  truth  of  representation.  And 
now,  novels  and  plays  are  applauded  in  proportion  to  the  fidelity 
with  which  they  exhibit  individual  characters ; improbabilities, 
like  the  impossibilities  which  preceded  them,  are  disallowed, 
and  there  is  even  an  incipient  abandonment  of  those  elaborate 
plots  which  life  rarely  if  ever  furnishes. 

§ 138.  It  would  be  easy  to  accumulate  evidences  of  other 
kinds.  The  progress  from  myths  and  legends,  extreme  in  their 
misrepresentations,  to  a history  that  has  slowly  become,  and 
is  still  becoming,  more  accurate;  the  establishment  of  settled 
systematic  methods  of  doing  things,  instead  of  the  indeter- 
minate ways  at  first  pursued  — - these  might  be  enlarged  upon  in 
further  exemplification  of  the  general  law.  But  the  basis  of 
induction  is  already  wide  enough.  Proof  that  all  Evolution  is 
from  the  indefinite  to  the  definite,  we  find  to  be  not  less 
abundant  than  proof  that  all  Evolution  is  from  the  homo- 
geneous to  the  heterogeneous. 

It  should,  however,  be  added  that  this  advance  in  definiteness 
is  not  a primary  but  a secondary  phenomenon  — is  a result  in- 
cidental on  other  changes.  The  transformation  of  a whole 
that  was  originally  diffused  and  uniform  into  a concentrated 
combination  of  multiform  parts,  implies  progressive  separation 
both  of  the  whole  from  its  environment  and  of  the  parts  from 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONTINUED 


329 


one  another.  While  this  is  going  on  there  must  be  indistinctness. 
Only  as  the  whole  gains  density,  does  it  become  sharply  marked 
off  from  the  space  or  matter  lying  outside  of  it;  and  only  as 
each  separated  division  draws  into  its  mass  those  peripheral 
portions  which  are  at  first  imperfectly  disunited  from  the 
peripheral  portions  of  neighboring  divisions,  can  it  acquire 
anything  like  a precise  outline.  That  is  to  say,  the  increas- 
ing definiteness  is  a concomitant  of  the  increasing  consolidation, 
general  and  local.  While  the  secondary  redistributions  are  ever 
adding  to  the  heterogeneity,  the  primary  redistribution,  while 
augmenting  the  integration,  is  incidentally  giving  distinctness 
to  the  increasingly-unlike  parts  as  well  as  to  the  aggregate  of 
them. 

But  though  this  universal  trait  of  Evolution  is  a necessary 
accompaniment  of  the  traits  set  forth  in  preceding  chapters,  it  is 
not  expressed  in  the  words  used  to  describe  them.  It  is  there- 
fore needful  further  to  modify  our  formula.  The  more  specific 
idea  of  Evolution  now  reached  is  — a change  from  an  indefinite, 
incoherent  homogeneity,  to  a definite  coherent  heterogeneity, 
accompanying  the  dissipation  of  motion  and  integration  of 
matter. 


330 


FIRST  FRINCirLES 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 

THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONCLUDED. 

§ 139.  Ti-ie  conception  of  Evolution  elaborated  in  the  fore- 
going chapters,  is  still  incomplete.  True  though  it  is,  it  is  not 
the  whole  truth.  The  transformations  which  all  things  undergo 
during  the  ascending  phases  of  their  existence,  we  have  con- 
templated under  three  aspects ; and  by  uniting  these  three 
aspects  as  simultaneously  presented,  we  have  formed  an  approx- 
imate idea  of  the  transformations.  But  there  are  concomitant 
changes  about  which  nothing  has  yet  been  said;  and  which, 
though  less  conspicuous,  are  no  less  essential. 

For  thus  far  we  have  attended  only  to  the  redistribution  of 
Matter,  neglecting  the  accompanying  redistribution  of  Motion. 
Distinct  or  tacit  reference  has,  indeed,  repeatedly  been  made  to 
the  dissipation  of  "Motion,  that  goes  on  along  with  the  concen- 
tration of  Matter;  and  were  all  Evolution  absolutely  simple, 
the  total  fact  would  be  contained  in  the  proposition  that  as 
Motion  dissipates  Matter  concentrates.  But  while  we  have 
recognized  the  ultimate  redistribution  of  the  Motion,  we  have 
passed  over  its  proximate  redistribution.  Though  something 
has  from  time  to  time  been  said  about  the  escaping  motion, 
nothing  has  been  said  about  the  motion  that  does  not  escape. 
In  proportion  as  Evolution  becomes  compound  — in  proportion 
as  an  aggregate  retains,  for  a considerable  time,  such  a quantity 
of  motion  as  permits  secondary  redistributions  of  its  component 
matter,  there  necessarily  arise  secondary  redistributions  of  its 
retained  motion.  As  fast  as  the  parts  are  transformed,  there 
goes  on  a transformation  of  the  sensible  or  insensible  motion 
possessed  by  the  parts.  The  parts  cannot  become  progressively 
integrated,  either  individually  or  as  a combination,  without 
their  motions,  individual  or  combined,  becoming  more  in- 
tegrated. There  cannot  arise  among  the  parts  heterogeneities 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONCLUDED 


331 


of  size,  of  form,  of  quality,  without  there  also  arising  hetero- 
geneities in  the  amounts  and  directions  of  their  motions,  or 
the  motions  of  their  molecules.  And  increasing  definiteness 
of  the  parts  implies  increasing  definiteness  of  their  motions.  In 
short,  the  rhythmical  actions  going  on  in  each  aggregate  must 
differentiate  and  integrate  at  the  same  time  that  the  structure 
does  so. 

The  general  theory  of  this  redistribution  of  the  retained 
motion  must  here  be  briefly  stated.  Properly  to  supplement 
our  conception  of  Evolution  under  its  material  aspect  by  a 
conception  of  Evolution  under  its  dynamical  aspect,  we  have  to 
recognize  the  source  for  the  integrated  motions  that  arise,  and 
to  see  how  their  increased  multiformity  and  definiteness  are 
necessitated.  If  Evolution  is  a passage  of  matter  from  a 
diffused  to  an  aggregated  state  — if  while  the  dispersed  units 
are  losing  part  of  the  insensible  motion  which  kept  them  dis- 
persed, there  arise  among  coherent  masses  of  them  any  sensible 
motions  with  respect  to  one  another,  then  this  sensible  motion 
must  previously  have  existed  in  the  form  of  insensible  motion 
among  the  units.  If  concrete  matter  arises  by  the  aggregation 
of  diffused  matter,  then  concrete  motion  arises  by  the  aggrega- 
tion of  diffused  motion.  That  which  comes  into  existence  as 
the  movement  of  masses  implies  the  cessation  of  an  equivalent 
molecular  movement.  While  we  must  leave  in  the  shape  of 
hypothesis  the  belief  that  the  celestial  motions  have  thus 
originated,  we  may  see,  as  a matter  of  fact,  that  this  is  the 
genesis  of  all  sensible  motions  on  the  Earth’s  surface.  As 
before  shown  (§  69),  the  denudation  of  lands  and  deposit  of 
new  strata  are  effected  by  water  in  the  course  of  its  descent 
to  the  sea,  or  during  the  arrest  of  those  undulations  produced 
on  it  by  winds;  and,  as  before  shown,  the  elevation  of  water 
to  the  height  whence  it  fell  is  due  to  solar  heat,  as  is  also  the 
genesis  of  those  aerial  currents  which  drift  it  about  when 
evaporated  and  agitate  its  surface  when  condensed.  That  is  to 
say,  the  molecular  motion  of  the  ethereal  medium  is  transformed 
into  the  motion  of  gases,  thence  into  the  motion  of  liquids, 
and  thence  into  the  motion  of  solids  — stages  in  each  of  which 
a certain  amount  of  molecular  motion  is  lost  and  an  equivalent 
motion  of  masses  gained.  It  is  the  same  with  organic  move- 
ments. Certain  rays  issuing  from  the  Sun  enable  the  plant 


1132 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


to  reduce  special  elements  existing  in  gaseous  combination 
around  it  to  a solid  form  — enable  the  plant,  that  is,  to  grow 
and  carry  on  its  functional  changes.  And  since  growth,  equally 
with  circulation  of  sap,  is  a mode  of  sensible  motion,  while 
those  rays  which  have  been  expended  in  generating  it  consist 
of  insensible  motions,  we  have  here,  too,  a transformation  of 
the  kind  alleged.  Animals,  derived  as  their  forces  are,  directly 
or  indirectly,  from  plants,  carry  this  transformation  a step 
further.  The  automatic  movements  of  the  viscera,  together 
with  the  voluntary  movements  of  the  limbs  and  body  at  large, 
arise  at  the  expense  of  certain  molecular  movements  throughout 
the  nervous  and  muscular  tissues;  and  these  originally  arose 
at  the  expense  of  certain  other  molecular  movements  propagated 
by  the  Sun  to  the  Earth,  so  that  both  the  structural  and  func- 
tional motions  which  organic  Evolution  displays  are  motions 
of  aggregates  generated  by  the  arrested  motions  of  units.  Even 
with  the  aggregates  of  these  aggregates  the  same  rule  holds. 
For  among  associated  men,  the  progress  is  ever  toward  a merg- 
ing of  individual  actions  in  the  actions  of  corporate  bodies. 
While,  then,  during  Evolution,  the  escaping  motion  becomes, 
by  perpetually  widening  dispersion,  more  disintegrated,  the 
motion  that  is  for  a time  retained  becomes  more  integrated, 
and  so,,  considered  dynamically,  Evolution  is  a decrease  in  the 
relative  movements  of  parts  and  an  increase  in  the  relative 
movements  of  wholes  — using  the  words  parts  and  wholes  in 
their  most  general  senses.  The  advance  is  from  the  motions  of 
simple  molecules  to  the  motions  of  compound  molecules;  from 
molecular  motions  to  the  motions  of  masses;  and  from  the  mo- 
tions of  smaller  masses  to  the  motions  of  larger  masses.  The 
accompanying  change  toward  greater  multiformity  among  the  re- 
tained motions  takes  place  under  the  form  of  an  increased  variety 
of  rhythms.  We  have  already  seen  that  all  motion  is  rhythmical, 
from  the  infinitesimal  vibrations  of  infinitesimal  molecules  up  to 
those  vast  oscillations  between  perihelion  and  aphelion  performed 
by  vast  celestial  bodies.  And,  as  the  contrast  between  these  ex- 
treme cases  suggests,  a multiplication  of  rhythms  must  accom- 
pany a multiplication  in  the  degrees  and  modes  of  aggregation, 
and  in  the  relations  of  the  aggregated  masses  to  incident  forces. 
The  degree  or  mode  of  aggregation  will  not,  indeed,  affect  the 
rate  or  extent  of  rhythm  where  the  incident  force  increases  as 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONCLUDED 


333 


the  aggregate  increases,  which  is  the  case  with  gravitation;  here 
the  only  cause  of  variation  in  rhythm  is  difference  of  relation 
to  the  incident  forces,  as  we  see  in  a pendulum,  which,  though 
unaffected  in  its  movements  by  a change  in  the  weight  of  the 
bob,  alters  its  rate  of  oscillation  when  taken  to  the  equator.  But 
in  all  cases  where  the  incident  forces  do  not  vary  as  the  masses, 
every  new  order  of  aggregation  initiates  a new  order  of  rhythm : 
witness  the  conclusion  drawn  from  the  recent  researches  into 
radiant  heat  and  light,  that  the  molecules  of  different  gases 
have  different  rates  of  undulation.  So  that  increased  multi- 
formity in  the  arrangement  of  matter  necessarily  generates 
increased  multiformity  of  rhythm,  both  through  increased  variety 
in  the  sizes  and  forms  of  aggregates,  and  through  increased 
variety  in  their  relations  to  the  forces  which  move  them.  That 
these  motions,  as  they  become  more  integrated  and  more  hetero- 
geneous, must  become  more  definite  is  a proposition  that  need 
not  detain  us.  In  proportion  as  any  part  of  an  evolving  whole 
segregates  and  consolidates,  and  in  so  doing  loses  the  relative 
mobility  of  its  components,  its  aggregate  motion  must  obviously 
acquire  distinctness. 

Here,  then,  to  complete  our  conception  of  Evolution  we 
have  to  contemplate  throughout  the  Cosmos  these  metamor- 
phoses of  retained  motion  that  accompany  the  metamorphoses 
of  component  matter.  We  may  do  this  with  comparative 
brevity,  the  reader  having  now  become  so  far  familiar  with 
the  mode  of  looking  at  the  facts  that  less  illustration  will 
suffice.  To  save  space,  it  will  be  convenient  to  deal  with  the 
several  aspects  of  the  metamorphoses  at  the  same  time. 

§ 140.  Dispersed  matter  moving,  as  we  see  it  in  a spiral 
nebula,  toward  the  common  centre  of  gravity,  from  all  points 
at  all  distances  with  all  degrees  of  indirectness,  must  carry  into 
the  nebulous  mass  eventually  formed  innumerable  momenta 
contrasted  in  their  amounts  and  directions.  As  the  integra- 
tion progresses,  such  parts  of  these  momenta  as  conflict  are 
mutually  neutralized  and  dissipated  as  heat.  The  outstanding 
rotatory  motion,  at  first  having  unlike  angular  velocities  at  the 
periphery  and  at  various  distances  from  the  centre,  has  its 
differences  of  angular  velocity  gradually  reduced,  advancing 
toward  a final  state,  now  nearly  reached  by  the  Sun,  in  which 


334 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  angular  velocity  of  the  whole  mass  is  the  same  — in  which 
the  motion  is  integrated.  So,  too,  with  each  planet  and  satellite. 
Progress  from  the  motion  of  a nebulous  ring,  incoherent  and 
admitting  of  much  relative  motion  within  its  mass,  to  the 
motion  of  a dense  spheroid,  is  progress  to  a motion  that  is 
completely  integrated.  The  rotation  and  the  translation 
through  space  severally  become  one  and  indivisible.  Meanwhile, 
there  goes  on  that  further  integration  by  which  the  motions  of 
all  the  parts  of  the  Solar  System  are  rendered  mutually  de- 
pendent. Locally  in  each  planet  and  its  satellites,  and  generally 
in  the  Sun  and  the  planets,  we  have  a system  of  simple  and 
compound  rhythms,  with  periodic  and  secular  variations,  form- 
ing together  an  integrated  set  of  movements. 

The  matter  which,  in  its  original  diffused  state,  had  motions 
that  were  confused,  indeterminate,  or  without  sharply  marked 
distinctions,  has,  during  the  evolution  of  the  Solar  System, 
acquired  definitely  heterogeneous  motions.  The  periods  of  revo- 
lution of  all  the  planets  and  satellites  are  unlike,  as  are  also 
their  times  of  rotation.  Out  of  these  definitely  heterogeneous 
motions  of  a simple  kind  arise  others  that  are  complex,  but  still 
definite  — as  those  produced  by  the  revolutions  of  satellites 
compounded  with  the  revolutions  of  their  primaries;  as  those 
of  which  precession  is  the  result,  and  as  those  which  are  known 
as  perturbations.  Each  additional  complexity  of  structure  has 
caused  additional  complexity  of  movements,  but  still  a definite 
complexity,  as  is  shown  by  having  calculable  results. 

§ 141.  While  the  Earth’s  surface  was  molten,  the  currents 
in  the  voluminous  atmosphere  surrounding  it,  mainly  of 
ascending  heated  gases  and  of  descending  precipitated  liquids, 
must  have  been  local,  numerous,  indefinite,  and  but  little  dis- 
tinguished from  one  another.  But  as  fast  as  the  surface  cooled, 
and  solar  radiation  began  to  cause  appreciable  differences  of 
temperature  between  the  equatorial  and  polar  regions,  a decided 
atmospheric  circulation  from  poles  to  equator  and  from  equator 
to  poles  must  have  slowly  established  itself;  the  vast  moving 
masses  of  air  becoming,  at  last,  trade-winds  and  other  such 
permanent  definite  currents.  These  integrated  motions,  once 
comparatively  homogeneous,  were  rendered  heterogeneous  as 
great  islands  and  continents  arose,  to  complicate  them  by 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONCLUDED 


335 


periodic  winds,  caused  by  the  varied  heating  of  wide  tracts  of 
land  at  different  seasons.  Rhythmical  motions  of  a constant 
and  simple  kind  were,  by  increasing  multiformity  of  the  Earth’s 
surface,  differentiated  into  an  involved  combination  of  constant 
and  recurrent  rhythmical  motions,  joined  with  smaller  motions 
that  are  irregular. 

Parallel  changes  must  have  taken  place  in  the  motions  of 
water.  On  a thin  crust,  admitting  of  but  small  elevations  and 
depressions,  and  therefore  of  but  small  lakes  and  seas,  none 
beyond  small  local  circulations  were  possible.  But  along  with 
the  formation  of  continents  and  oceans  came  the  vast  movements 
of  water  from  warm  latitudes  to  cold  and  from  cold  to  warm  — 
movements  increasing  in  amount,  in  definiteness,  and  in  variety 
of  distribution  as  the  features  of  the  Earth’s  surface  became 
larger  and  more  contrasted.  The  like  holds  with  drainage- 
waters.  The  tricklings  of  insignificant  streams  over  narrow 
pieces  of  land  were  once  the  only  motions  of  such  waters;  but 
as  fast  as  wide  areas  came  into  existence  the  motions  of  many 
tributaries  became  massed  into  the  motions  of  great  rivers,  and 
instead  of  motions  very  much  alike  there  arose  motions  con- 
siderably varied. 

Nor  can  we  well  doubt  that  the  movements  in  the  Earth’s 
crust  itself  have  presented  an  analogous  progress.  Small,  num- 
erous, local,  and  very  much  like  one  another,  while  the  crust 
was  thin,  the  elevations  and  subsidences  must,  as  the  crust 
thickened,  have  extended  over  larger  areas,  must  have  continued 
for  longer  eras  in  the  same  directions,  and  must  have  been  made 
more  unlike  in  different  regions  by  local  differences  of  structure 
in  the  crust. 

§ 142.  In  organisms,  the  advance  toward  a more  integrated, 
heterogeneous,  and  definite  distribution  of  the  retained  motion, 
which  accompanies  the  advance  toward  a more  integrated, 
heterogeneous,  and  definite  distribution  of  the  component  mat- 
ter, is  mainly  what  we  understand  as  the  development  of  func- 
tions. All  active  functions  are  either  sensible  movements,  as 
those  produced  by  contractile  organs ; or  such  insensible 
movements  as  those  propagated  through  the  nerves;  or  such 
insensible  movements  as  those  by  which,  in  secreting  organs, 
molecular  rearrangements  are  effected,  and  new  combinations 


336 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


of  matter  produced.  And  what  we  have  here  to  observe  is,  that 
during  evolution,  functions,  like  structures,  become  more  con- 
solidated individually,  as  well  as  more  combined  with  one 
another,  at  the  same  time  that  they  become  more  multiform 
and  more  distinct. 

The  nutritive  juices  in  animals  of  low  types  move  hither 
and  thither  through  the  tissues  quite  irregularly,  as  local  strains 
and  pressures  determine:  in  the  absence  of  a distinguishable 
blood  and  a developed  vascular  system,  there  is  no  definite  circu- 
lation. But  along  with  the  structural  evolution  which  estab- 
lishes a finished  apparatus  for  distributing  blood,  there  goes  on 
the  functional  evolution  which  establishes  large  and  rapid 
movements  of  blood,  definite  in  their  courses  and  definitely 
distinguished  as  efferent  and  afferent,  and  that  are  hetero- 
geneous not  simply  in  their  directions  but  in  their  characters  — 
being  here  divided  into  gushes  and  there  continuous. 

Instance,  again,  the  way  in  which,  accompanying  the  struc- 
tural differentiations  and  integrations  of  the  alimentary  canal, 
there  arise  differentiations  and  integrations  both  of  its  me- 
chanical movements  and  its  actions  of  a non-mechanical  kind. 
Along  an  alimentary  canal  of  a primitive  type,  there  pass, 
almost  uniformly  from  end  to  end,  waves  of  constriction.  But 
in  a well-organized  alimentary  canal,  the  waves  of  constriction 
are  widely  unlike  at  different  parts,  in  their  kinds,  strengths, 
and  rapidities.  In  the  mouth  they  become  movements  of  pre- 
hension and  mastication  — now  occurring  in  quick  succession 
and  now  ceasing  for  hours.  In  the  oesophagus  these  contrac- 
tions, propulsive  in  their  office,  and  travelling  with  considerable 
speed,  take  place  at  intervals  during  eating,  and  then  do  not 
take  place  till  the  next  meal.  In  the  stomach  another  modifica- 
tion of  this  originally  uniform  action  occurs : the  muscular 
constrictions  are  powerful,  and  continue  during  the  long  periods 
that  the  stomach  contains  food.  Throughout  the  upper  intes- 
tines, again,  a further  difference  shows  itself  — the  waves  travel 
along  without  cessation  but  are  relatively  moderate.  Finally, 
in  the  rectum  this  rhythm  departs  in  another  way  from  the 
common  type:  quiescence  lasting  for  many  hours,  is  followed 
by  a series  of  strong  contractions.  Meanwhile,  the  essential 
actions  which  these  movements  aid,  have  been  growing  more 
definitely  heterogeneous.  Secretion  and  absorption  are  no 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONCLUDED 


337 


longer  carried  on  in  much  the  same  way  from  end  to  end  of 
the  tube;  but  the  general  function  divides  into  various  sub- 
ordinate functions.  The  solvents  and  ferments  furnished  by 
the  coats  of  the  canal  and  the  appended  glands,  become  widely 
unlike  at  upper,  middle,  and  lower  parts  of  the  canal ; implying 
different  kinds  of  molecular  changes.  Here  the  process  is 
mainly  secretory,  there  it  is  mainly  absorbent,  while 
in  other  places,  as  in  the  oesophagus,  neither  secretion 
nor  absorption  takes  place  to  any  appreciable  extent.  While 
these  and  other  internal  motions,  sensible  and  insensible, 
are  being  rendered  more  various,  and  severally  more 
consolidated  and  distinct,  there  is  advancing  the  integration 
by  which  they  are  united  into  local  groups  of  motions  and  a 
combined  system  of  motions.  While  the  function  of  alimenta- 
tion subdivides,  its  subdivision  become  co-ordinated,  so  that 
muscular  and  secretory  actions  go  on  in  concert,  and  so  that 
excitement  of  one  part  of  the  canal  sets  up  excitement  of  the 
rest.  Moreover,  the  whole  alimentary  function,  while  it  sup- 
plies matter  for  the'  circulatory  and  respiratory  functions,  be- 
comes so  integrated  with  them  that  it  cannot  for  a moment  go 
on  without  them.  And,  as  evolution  advances,  all  three  of  these 
fundamental  functions  fall  into  greater  subordination  to  the 
nervous  functions  — depend  more  and  more  on  the  due  amount 
of  nervous  discharge. 

When  we  trace  up  the  functions  of  external  organs  the  same 
truth  discloses  itself.  Microscopic  creatures  are  moved  through 
the  water  by  oscillations  of  the  cilia  covering  their  surfaces; 
and  various  larger  forms,  as  the  Turbellaria,  progress  by  ciliary 
action  over  solid  surfaces.  These  motions  of  cilia  are,  in  the 
first  place,  severally  very  minute;  in  the  second  place  they  are 
homogeneous;  and  in  the  third  place  there  is  but  little  definite- 
ness in  them  individually,  or  in  their  joint  product,  which  is 
mostly  a mere  random  change  of  place  not  directed  to  any 
selected  point.  Contrasting  this  ciliary  action  with  the  action 
of  developed  locomotive  organs  of  whatever  kind,  we  see  that 
instead  of  innumerable  small  or  unintegrated  movements  there 
are  a few  comparatively  large  or  integrated  movements;  that 
actions  all  alike  are  replaced  by  actions  partially  unlike;  and 
that  instead  of  being  very  feebly  or  almost  accidentally  co- 
ordinated, their  co-ordination  is  such  as  to  render  the  motions 


338 


FIRST  PRINCIFLES 


of  the  body,  as  a whole,  precise.  A parallel  contrast,  less  ex- 
treme but  sufficiently  decided,  is  seen  when  we  pass  from  the 
lower  types  of  creatures  with  limbs  to  the  higher  types  of 
creatures  with  limbs.  The  legs  of  a Centipede  have  motions 
that  are  numerous,  small,  and  homogeneous;  and  are  so  little 
integrated  that  when  the  creature  is  divided  and  subdivided, 
the  legs  belonging  to  each  part  propel  that  part  independently. 
But  in  one  of  the  higher  Annulosa,  as  a Crab,  the  relatively  few 
limbs  have  motions  that  are  comparatively  large  in  their 
amounts,  that  are  considerably  unlike  one  another,  and  that 
are  integrated  into  compound  motions  of  tolerable  definiteness. 

§ 143.  The  last  illustrations  are  introductory  to  illustra- 
tions of  the  kind  we  class  as  psychical.  They  are  the  physio- 
logical aspects  of  the  simpler  among  those  functions  which, 
under  a more  special  and  complex  aspect,  we  distinguish  as 
psychological.  The  phenomena  subjectively  known  as  changes 
in  consciousness,  are  objectively  known  as  nervous  excitations 
and  discharges,  which  science  now  interprets  into  modes  of 
motion.  Hence,  in  following  up  organic  evolution,  the  advance 
of  retained  motion  in  integration,  in  heterogeneity,  and  in 
definiteness,  may  be  expected  to  show  itself  alike  in  the  visible, 
nervo-muscular  actions  and  in  the  correlative  mental  changes. 
We  may  conveniently  look  at  the  facts  as  exhibited  during 
individual  evolution,  before  looking  at  them  as  exhibited  in 
general  evolution. 

The  progress  of  a child  in  speech,  very  completely  exhibits 
the  transformation.  Infantine  noises  are  comparatively  homo- 
geneous ; alike  as  being  severally  long-drawn  and  nearly  uniform 
from  end  to  end,  and  as  being  constantly  repeated  with  but 
little  variation  of  quality  between  narrow  limits.  They  are 
quite  uncoordinated  — there  is  no  integration  of  them  into  com- 
pound sounds.  They  are  inarticulate,  or  without  those  definite 
beginnings  and  endings  characterizing  the  sounds  we  call  words. 
Progress  shows  itself  first  in  the  multiplication  of  the  inarticul- 
ate sounds : the  extreme  vowels  are  added  to  the  medium 
vowels,  and  the  compound  to  the  simple.  Presently  the  move- 
ments which  form  the  simpler  consonants  are  achieved,  and 
some  of  the  sounds  become  sharply  cut;  but  this  definiteness 
is  partial,  for  only  initial  consonants  being  used,  the  sounds  end 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONCLUDED 


339 


vaguely.  While  an  approach  to  distinctness  thus  results,  there 
also  results,  by  combination  of  different  consonants  with  the 
same  vowels,  an  increase  of  heterogeneity ; and  along  with  the 
complete  distinctness  which  terminal  consonants  give,  arises  a 
further  great  addition  to  the  number  of  unlike  sounds  produced. 
The  more  difficult  consonants  and  the  compound  consonants, 
imperfectly  articulated  at  first,  are  by  and  by  articulated  with 
precision;  and  there  comes  yet  another  multitude  of  different 
and  definite  words  — words  that  imply  many  kinds  of  vocal 
movements,  severally  performed  with  exactness,  as  well  as 
perfectly  integrated  into  complex  groups.  The  subsequent 
advance  to  dissyllables  and  polysyllables,  and  to  involved 
combinations  of  words,  shows  the  still  higher  degree  of  integra- 
tion and  heterogeneity  eventually  reached  by  these  organic 
motions.  The  acts  of  consciousness  correlated  with  these  nervo- 
muscular  acts,  of  course  go  through  parallel  phases;  and  the 
advance  from  childhood  to  maturity  yields  daily  proof  that  the 
changes  which,  on  their  physical  side  are  nervous  processes, 
and  on  their  mental  side  are  processes  of  thought,  become  more 
various,  more  defined,  more  coherent.  At  first  the  intellectual 
functions  are  very  much  alike  in  kind  — recognitions  and 
classifications  of  simple  impressions  alone  go  on;  but  in  course 
of  time  these  functions  become  multiform.  Reasoning  grows 
distinguishable,  and  eventually  we  have  conscious  induction  and 
deduction;  deliberate  recollection  and  deliberate  imagination 
are  added  to  simple  unguided  association  of  ideas;  more  special 
modes  of  mental  action,  as  those  which  result  in  mathematics, 
music,  poetry,  arise;  and  within  each  of  these  divisions  the 
mental  processes  are  ever  being  further  differentiated.  In 
definiteness  it  is  the  same.  The  infant  makes  its  observations 
so  inaccurately  that  it  fails  to  distinguish  individuals.  The 
child  errs  continually  in  its  spelling,  its  grammar,  its  arithmetic. 
The  youth  forms  incorrect  judgments  on  the  affairs  of  life. 
Only  with  maturity  comes  that  precise  co-ordination  in  the 
nervous  processes  that  is  implied  by  a good  adjustment  of 
thoughts  to  things.  Lastly,  with  the  integration  by  which 
simple  mental  acts  are  combined  into  complex  mental  acts,  it 
is  so  likewise.  In  the  nursery  you  cannot  obtain  continuous 
attention  — there  is  inability  to  form  a coherent  series  of  im- 
pressions; and  there  is  a parallel  inability  to  unite  many  co- 


340 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


existent  impressions,  even  of  the  same  order:  witness  the  way 
in  which  a child’s  remarks  on  a picture,  show  that  it  attends 
only  to  the  individual  objects  represented,  and  never  to  the 
picture  as  a whole.  But  with  advancing  years  it  becomes 
possible  to  understand  an  involved  sentence,  to  follow  long 
trains  of  reasoning,  to  hold  in  one  mental  grasp  numerous 
concurrent  circumstances.  The  like  progressive  integration 
takes  place  among  the  mental  changes  we  distinguish  as  feel- 
ings; which  in  a child  act  singly,  producing  impulsiveness,  but 
in  an  adult  act  more  in  concert,  producing  a comparatively 
balanced  conduct. 

After  these  illustrations  supplied  by  individual  evolution, 
we  may  deal  briefly  with  those  supplied  by  general  evolution, 
which  are  analogous  to  them.  A creature  of  very  low  intelli- 
gence, when  aware  of  some  large  object  in  motion  near  it, 
makes  a spasmodic  movement,  causing,  it  may  be,  a leap  or  a 
dart.  The  perceptions  implied  are  relatively  simple,  homo- 
geneous, and  indefinite : the  moving  objects  are  not  distinguished 
in  their  kinds  as  injurious  or  otherwise,  as  advancing  or  reced- 
ing. The  actions  of  escape  are  similarly  all  of  one  kind,  have 
no  adjustments  of  direction,  and  may  bring  the  creature  nearer 
the  source  of  peril  instead  of  further  off.  A stage  higher, 
when  the  dart  or  the  leap  is  away  from  danger,  we  see  the 
nervous  changes  so  far  specialized  that  there  results  distinction 
of  direction;  indicating  a greater  variety  among  them,  a greater 
co-ordination  or  integration  of  them  in  each  process,  and  a 
greater  definiteness.  In  still  higher  animals  that  discriminate 
between  enemies  and  not-enemies,  as  a bird  that  flies  from  a 
man  but  not  from  a cow,  the  acts  of  perception  have  severally 
become  united  into  more  complex  wholes,  since  cognition  of 
certain  differential  attributes  is  implied ; they  have  become  more 
multiform,  since  each  additional  component  impression  adds 
to  the  number  of  possible  compounds;  and  they  have,  by  conse- 
quence, become  more  specific  in  their  correspondences  with 
objects  — more  definite.  And  then  in  animals  so  intelligent 
that  they  identify  by  sight  not  species  only  but  individuals  of 
a species,  the  mental  changes  are  yet  further  distinguished  in 
the  same  three  ways.  In  the  course  of  human  evolution  the 
law  is  equally  manifested.  The  thoughts  of  the  savage  are 
nothing  like  so  heterogeneous  in  their  kinds  as  those  of  the 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONCLUDED 


341 


civilized  man,  whose  complex  environment  presents  a multi- 
plicity of  new  phenomena.  His  mental  acts,  too,  are  much  less 
involved  — he  has  no  words  for  abstract  ideas,  and  is  found 
to  be  incapable  of  integrating  the  elements  of  such  ideas.  And 
in  ail  but  simple  matters  there  is  none  of  that  precision  in  his 
thinking  which,  among  civilized  men,  leads  to  the  exact  con- 
clusions of  science.  Nor  do  the  emotions  fail  to  exhibit  a 
parallel  contrast. 

§ 144.  How  in  societies  the  movements  or  functions  pro- 
duced by  the  confluence  of  individual  actions,  increase  in  their 
amounts,  their  multiformities,  their  precision,  and  their  com- 
bination, scarcely  needs  insisting  upon  after  what  has  been 
pointed  out  in  foregoing  chapters.  For  the  sake  of  symmetry 
of  statement,  however,  a typical  example  or  two  may  be  set 
down. 

Take  the  actions  devoted  to  defence  or  aggression.  At  first 
the  military  function,  undifferentiated  from  the  rest  (all  men 
in  primitive  societies  being  warriors)  is  relatively  homogeneous, 
is  ill-combined,  and  is  indefinite:  savages  making  a joint  attack 
severally  fight  independently,  in  similar  ways,  and  without 
order.  But  as  societies  evolve  and  the  military  function  becomes 
separate,  we  see  that  while  its  scale  increases,  it  progresses  in 
multiformity,  in  definiteness,  and  in  combination.  The  move- 
ments of  the  thousands  of  soldiers  that  replace  the  tens  of 
warriors,  are  divided  and  redivided  in  their  kinds  — here  are 
bodies  that  manoeuvre  and  fire  artillery;  there  are  battalions 
that  fight  on  foot;  and  elsewhere  are  troops  that  charge  on 
horseback.  Within  each  of  these  differentiated  functions  there 
come  others:  there  are  distinct  duties  discharged  by  privates, 
sergeants,  captains,  colonels,  generals,  as  also  by  those  who 
constitute  the  commissariat  and  those  who  attend  to  the 
wounded.  The  actions  that  have  thus  become  comparatively 
heterogeneous  in  general  and  in  detail,  have  simultaneously 
increased  in  precision.  Accuracy  of  evolutions  is  given  by  per- 
petual drill;  so  that  in  battle,  men  and  the  regiments  formed 
of  them,  are  made  to  take  definite  positions  and  perform  definite 
acts  at  definite  times.  Once  more,  there  has  gone  on  that 
integration  by  which  the  multiform  actions  of  an  army  are 
directed  to  a single  end.  By  a co-ordinating  apparatus  having 


342 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  commander-in-chief  for  its  centre,  the  charges,  and  halts, 
and  retreats  are  duly  concerted;  and  a hundred  thousand  indi- 
vidual actions  are  united  under  one  will. 

The  progress  here  so  clearly  marked,  is  a progress  traceable 
throughout  social  functions  at  large.  Comparing  the  rule  of  a 
savage  chief  with  that  of  a civilized  government,  aided  by  its 
subordinate  local  governments  and  their  officers,  down  to  the 
police  in  the  streets,  we  see  how,  as  men  have  advanced  from 
tribes  of  tens  to  nations  of  millions,  the  regulative  process  has 
grown  large  in  amount;  how,  guided  by  written  laws,  it  has 
passed  from  vagueness  and  irregularity  to  comparative  pre- 
cision; and  how  it  has  subdivided  into  processes  increasingly 
multiform.  Or  observing  how  the  barter  that  goes  on  among 
barbarians,  differs  from  our  own  commercial  processes;  by  which 
a million’s  worth  of  commodities  is  distributed  daily;  by  which 
the  relative  values  of  articles  immensely  varied  in  kinds  and 
qualities  are  measured,  and  the  supplies  adjusted  to  the  de- 
mands; and  by  which  industrial  activities  of  all  orders  are  so 
combined  that  each  depends  on  the  rest  and  aids  the  rest;  we 
see  that  the  kind  of  action  which  constitutes  trade  has  become 
progressively  more  vast,  more  varied,  more  definite,  and  more 
integrated. 

§ 145.  A finished  conception  of  Evolution  we  thus  find  to 
be  one  which  includes  the  redistribution  of  the  retained  motion, 
as  well  as  that  of  the  component  <matter.  This  added  element 
of  the  conception  is  scarcely,  if  at  all,  less  important  than  the 
other.  The  movements  of  the  Solar  System  have  for  us  a 
significance  equal  to  that  which  the  sizes,  forms,  and  relative 
distances  of  its  members  possess.  And  of  the  phenomena 
presented  by  an  organism,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  com- 
bined sensible  and  insensible  actions  we  call  its  life  do  not  yield 
in  interest  to  its  structural  traits.  Leaving  out,  however,  all 
implied  reference  to  the  way  in  which  these  two  orders  of 
facts  concern  us,  it  is  clear  that  with  each  redistribution  of 
matter  there  necessarily  goes  a redistribution  of  motion ; and 
that  the  unified  knowledge  constituting  Philosophy,  must  com- 
prehend both  aspects  of  the  transformation. 

While,  then,  we  have  to  contemplate  the  matter  of  an  evolving 
aggregate  as  undergoing,  not  progressive  integration  simply, 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  CONCLUDED 


343 


but  as  simultaneously  undergoing  various  secondary  redistribu- 
tions; we  have  also  to  contemplate  the  motion  of  an  evolving 
aggregate,  not  only  as  being  gradually  dissipated,  but  as  passing 
through  many  secondary  redistributions  on  the  way  toward 
dissipation.  As  the  structural  complexities  that  arise  during 
compound  evolution,  are  incidental  to  the  progress  from  the 
extreme  of  diffusion  to  the  extreme  of  concentration;  so  the 
functional  complexities  accompanying  them,  are  incidental  to 
the  progress  from  the  greatest  quantity  of  contained  motion 
to  the  least  quantity  of  contained  motion.  And  we  have  to  state 
these  concomitants  of  both  transformations,  as  well  as  their 
beginnings  and  ends. 

Our  formula,  therefore,  needs  an  additional  clause.  To  com- 
bine this  satisfactorily  with  the  clauses  as  they  stand  in  the 
last  chapter,  is  scarcely  practicable;  and  for  convenience  of 
expression  it  will  be  best  to  change  their  order.  Doing  this, 
and  making  the  requisite  addition,  the  formula  finally  stands 
thus : — Evolution  is  an  integration  of  matter  and  concomitant 
dissipation  of  motion;  during  which  the  matter  passes  from  an 
indefinite , incoherent  homogeneity  to  a definite , coherent  hetero- 
geneity; and  during  which  the  retained  motion  undergoes  a 
parallel  transformation. 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


344 


CHAPTEK  XVIII. 

THE  INTERPRETATION  OP  EVOLUTION. 

§ 146.  Is  this  law  ultimate  or  derivative?  Must  we  rest 
satisfied  with  the  conclusion  that  throughout  all  classes  of  con- 
crete phenomena  such  is  the  course  of  transformation?  Or 
is  it  possible  for  us  to  ascertain  why  such  is  the  course  of 
transformation?  May  we  seek  for  some  all-pervading  principle 
which  underlies  this  all-pervading  process?  Can  the  inductions 
set  forth  in  the  preceding  four  chapters  be  reduced  to  deduc- 
tions ? 

Manifestly  this  community  of  result  implies  community  of 
cause.  It  may  be  that  of  such  cause  no  account  can  be  given, 
further  than  that  the  Unknowable  is  manifested  to  us  after 
this  mode.  Or,  it  may  be  that  this  mode  of  manifestation  is 
reducible  to  a simpler  mode,  from  which  these  many  complex 
effects  follow.  Analogy  suggests  the  latter  inference.  Just  as 
it  was  possible  to  interpret  the  empirical  generalizations  called 
Kepler’s  laws  as  necessary  consequences  of  the  law  of  gravita- 
tion; so  it  may  be  possible  to  interpret  the  foregoing  empirical 
generalizations  as  necessary  consequences  of  some  deeper  law. 

Unless  we  succeed  in  finding  a rationale  of  this  universal 
metamorphosis,  we  obviously  fall  short  of  that  completely 
unified  knowledge  constituting  Philosophy.  As  they  at  present 
stand,  the  several  conclusions  ive  have  lately  reached  appear 
to  be  independent  — there  is  no  demonstrated  connection  be- 
tween increasing  definiteness  and  increasing  heterogeneity,  or 
between  both  and  increasing  integration.  Still  less  evidence  is 
there  that  these  laws  of  the  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion 
are  necessarily  correlated  with  those  laws  of  the  direction  of 
motion  and  the  rhythm  of  motion,  previously  set  forth.  But 
until  we  see  ‘these  now  separate  truths  to  be  implications  of 
one  truth,  our  knowledge  remains  imperfectly  coherent. 


THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  EVOLUTION 


345 


§ 147.  The  task  before  us,  then,  is  that  of  exhibiting  the 
phenomena  of  Evolution  in  synthetic  order.  Setting  out  from 
an  established  ultimate  principle,  it  has  to  be  shown  that  the 
course  of  transformation  among  all  kinds  of  existences,  cannot 
but  be  that  which  we  have  seen  it  to  be.  It  has  to  be  shown 
that  the  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion  must  everywhere 
take  place  in  those  ways,  and  produce  those  traits,  which  celes- 
tial bodies,  organisms,  societies,  alike  display.  And  it  has  to 
be  shown  that  this  universality  of  process  results  from  the 
same  necessity  which  determines  each  simplest  movement 
around  us,  down  to  the  accelerated  fall  of  a stone  or  the  recur- 
rent beat  of  a harp-string. 

In  other  words,  the  phenomena  of  Evolution  have  to  be 
deduced  from  the  Persistence  of  Force.  As  before  said  — ■“  to 
this  an  ultimate  analysis  brings  us  down ; and  on  this  a rational 
synthesis  must  build  up  A This  being  the  ultimate  truth  which 
transcends  experience  by  underlying  it,  so  furnishing  a com- 
mon basis  on  which  the  widest  generalizations  stand,  these 
widest  generalizations  are  to  be  unified  by  referring  them  to 
this  common  basis.  Already  the  truths  manifested  throughout 
concrete  phenomena  of  all  orders,  that  there  is  equivalence 
among  transformed  forces,  that  motion  follows  the  line  of  least 
resistance,  and  that  it  is  universally  rhythmic,  we  have  found 
to  be  severalty  deducilile  from  the  persistence  of  force;  and 
this  affiliation  of  them  on  the  persistence  of  force  has  reduced 
them  to  a coherent  whole.  Here  we  have  similarly  to  affiliate 
the  universal  traits  of  Evolution,  by  showing  that,  given  the 
persistence  of  force,  the  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion 
necessarily  proceeds  in  such  way  as  to  produce  them;  and  by 
doing  this  we  shall  unite  them  as  co-relative  aspects  of  one 
law,  at  the  same  time  that  we  unite  this  law  with  the  foregoing 
simpler  laws. 

§ 148.  Before  proceeding  it  will  be  well  to  set  down  some 
principles  that  must  be  borne  in  mind.  In  interpreting  Evo- 
lution we  shall  have  to  consider,  under  their  special  forms,  the 
various  resolutions  of  force  that  accompany  the  redistribution 
of  matter  and  motion.  Let  us  glance  at  such  resolutions  under 
their  most  general  forms. 


346 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


Any  incident  force  is  primarily  divisible  into  its  effective 
and  non-effective  portions.  In  mechanical  impact,  the  entire 
momentum  of  a striking  body  is  never  communicated  to  the 
body  struck:  even  under  those  most  favorable  conditions  in 
which  the  striking  body  loses  all  its  sensible  motion,  there  still 
remains  with  it  some  of  the  original  momentum,  under  the 
shape  of  that  insensible  motion  produced  among  its  particles 
by  the  collision.  Of  the  light  or  heat  falling  on  any  mass,  a 
part,  more  or  less  considerable,  is  reflected ; and  only  the  remain- 
ing part  works  molecular  changes  in  the  mass.  Next  it  is  to  be 
noted  that  the  effective  force  is  itself  divisible  into  the  tem- 
porarily effective  and  the  permanently  effective.  The  units  of 
an  aggregate  acted  on  may  undergo  those  rhythmical  changes 
of  relative  position  which  constitute  increased  vibration,  as  well 
as  other  changes  of  relative  position  which  are  not  from  instant 
to  instant  neutralized  by  opposite  ones.  Of  these,  the  first,  dis- 
appearing in  the  shape  of  radiating  undulations,  leave  the  mo- 
lecular arrangement  as  it  originally  was ; while  the  second 
conduce  to  that  rearrangement  characterizing  compound  Evolu- 
tion. Yet  a further  distinction  has  to  be  made.  The  per- 
manently effective  force  works  out  changes  of  relative  position 
of  two  kinds  — the  insensible  and  the  sensible.  The  insensible 
transpositions  among  the  units  are  those  constituting  molecular 
changes,  including  what  we  call  chemical  composition  and 
decomposition ; and  it  is  these  which  we  recognize  as  the 
qualitative  differences  that  arise  in  an  aggregate.  The  sensible 
transpositions  are  such  as  result  when  certain  of  the  units, 
instead  of  being  put  into  different  relations  with  their  immed- 
iate neighbors,  are  carried  away  from  them  and  deposited 
elsewhere. 

Concerning  these  divisions  and  subdivisions  of  any  force 
affecting  an  aggregate,  the  fact  which  it  chiefly  concerns  us 
to  observe  is,  that  they  are  complementary  to  each  other.  Of 
the  whole  incident  force,  the  effective  must  be  that  which 
remains  after  deducting  the  non-effective.  The  two  parts  of 
the  effective  force  must  vary  inversely  as  each  other:  where 
much  of  it  is  temporarily  effective,  little  of  it  can  be  perma- 
nently effective;  and  vice  versa.  Lastly,  the  permanently  effec- 
tive force,  being  expended  in  working  both  the  insensible 
rearrangements  which  constitute  molecular  modification,  and 


THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  EVOLUTION 


347 


the  sensible  rearrangements  which  result  in  structure,  must 
generate  of  either  kind  an  amount  that  is  great  or  small  in 
proportion  as  it  has  generated  a small  or  great  amount  of  the 
other. 


SIS 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS. 

§ 149.  The  difficulty  of  dealing  with  transformations  so 
many-sided  as  those  which  all  existences  have  undergone,  or 
are  undergoing,  is  such  as  to  make  a definite  or  complete 
deductive  interpretation  seem  almost  hopeless.  So  to  grasp 
the  total  process  of  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion  as  to 
siee  simultaneously  its  several  necessary  results  in  their  actual 
interdependence,  is  scarcely  possible.  There  is,  however,  a mode 
of  rendering  the  process  as  a whole  tolerably  comprehensible. 
Though  the  genesis  of  the  rearrangement  undergone  by  every 
evolving  aggregate,  is  in  itself  one,  it  presents  to  our  intelligence 
several  factors;  and  after  interpreting  the  effects  of  each  sep- 
arately, we  may,  by  synthesis  of  the  interpretations,  form  an 
adequate  conception. 

On  setting  out,  the  proposition  which  comes  first  in  logical 
order,  is,  that  some  rearrangement  must  result;  and  this  propo- 
sition may  be  best  dealt  with  under  the  more  specific  shape, 
that  the  condition  of  homogeneity  is  a condition  of  unstable 
equilibrium. 

First,  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  terms;  respecting  which 
some  readers  may  need  explanation.  The  phrase  unstable 
equilibrium  is  one  used  in  mechanics  to  express  a balance  of 
forces  of  such  kind  that  the  interference  of  any  further  force, 
however  minute,  will  destroy  the  arrangement,  previously  sub- 
sisting; and  bring  about  a totally  different  arrangement.  Thus, 
a stick  poised  on  its  lower  end  is  in  unstable  equilibrium : how- 
ever exactly  it  may  be  placed  in  a perpendicular  position,  as 
soon  as  it  is  left  to  itself  it  begins,  at  first  imperceptibly,  to 
lean  on  one  side,  and  with  increasing  rapidity  falls  into  an- 
other attitude.  Conversely,  a stick  suspended  from  its  upper 
end  is  in  stable  equilibrium:  however  much  disturbed,  it  will 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


348 


return  to  the  same  position.  The  proposition  is,  then,  that  the 
state  of  homogeneity,  like  the  state  of  the  stick  poised  on  its 
lower  end,  is  one  that  cannot  be  maintained.  Let  us  take  a 
few  illustrations. 

Of  mechanical  ones  the  most  familiar  is  that  of  the  scales. 
If  they  be  accurately  made,  and  not  clogged  by  dirt  or  rust, 
it  is  impossible  to  keep  a pair  of  scales  perfectly  balanced: 
eventually  one  scale  will  descend  and  the  other  ascend  — they 
will  assume  a heterogeneous  relation.  Again,  if  we  sprinkle 
over  the  surface  of  a fluid  a number  of  equal-sized  particles, 
having  an  attraction  for  each  other,  they  will,  no  matter  how 
uniformly  distributed,  by  and  by  concentrate  irregularly  into 
one  or  more  groups.  Were  it  possible  to  bring  a mass  of  water 
into  a state  of  perfect  homogeneity  — a state  of  complete 
quiescence,  and  exactly  equal  density  throughout  — yet  the 
radiation  of  heat  from  neighboring  bodies,  by  affecting  differ- 
ently its  different  parts,  would  inevitably  produce  inequalities 
of  density  and  consequent  currents;  and  would  so  render  it  to 
that  extent  heterogeneous.  Take  a piece  of  red-hot  matter ; 
and  however  evenly  heated  it  may  at  first  be,  it  will  quickly 
cease  to  be  so : the  exterior,  cooling  faster  than  the  interior, 
will  become  different  in  temperature  from  it.  And  the  lapse 
into  heterogeneity  of  temperature,  so  obvious  in  this  extreme 
case,  takes  place  more  or  less  in  all  eases.  The  action  of 
chemical  forces  supplies  other  illustrations.  Expose  a fragment 
of  metal  to  air  or  water,  and  in  course  of  time  it  will  be  coated 
with  a film  of  oxide,  carbonate,  or  other  compound : that  is  — 
its  outer  parts  will  become  unlike  its  inner  parts.  Usually  the 
heterogeneity  produced  by  the  action  of  chemical  forces  on 
the  surface  of  masses,  is  not  striking;  because  the  changed 
portions  are  soon  washed  away,  or  otherwise  removed.  But  if 
this  is  prevented,  comparatively  complex  structures  result. 
Quarries  of  trap-rock  contain  some  striking  examples.  Not  in- 
frequently a piece  of  trap  may  be  found  reduced,  by  the  action 
of  the  weather,  to  a number  of  loosely-adherent  coats,  like  those 
of  an  onion.  Where  the  block  has  been  quite  undisturbed,  we 
may  trace  the  whole  series  of  these,  from  the  angular,  irregular 
outer  one,  through  successively  included  ones  in  which  the  shape 
becomes  gradually  rounded,  ending  finally  in  a spherical  nucleus. 
On  comparing  the  original  mass  of  stone  with  this  group  of 


350 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


concentric  coats,  each  of  which  differs  from  the  rest  in  form, 
and  probably  in  the  state  of  decomposition  at  which  it  has 
arrived,  we  get  a marked  illustration  of  the  multiformity  to 
which,  in  lapse  of  time,  a uniform  body  may  be  brought  by 
external  chemical  action.  The  instability  of  the  homogeneous 
is  equally  seen  in  the  changes  set  up  throughout  the  interior 
of  a mass,  when  it  consists  of  units  that  are  not  rigidly  bound 
together.  The  atoms  of  a precipitate  never  remain  separate, 
and  equably  distributed  through  the  fluid  in  which  they  make 
their  appearance.  They  aggregate  either  into  crystalline  grains, 
each  containing  an  immense  number  of  atoms,  or  they  aggre- 
gate into  flocculi,  each  containing  a yet  larger  number;  and 
where  the  mass  of  fluid  is  great,  and  the  process  prolonged, 
these  flocculi  do  not  continue  equidistant,  but  break  up  into 
groups.  That  is  to  say,  there  is  a destruction  of  the  balance 
at  first  subsisting  among  the  diffused  particles,  and  also  of  the 
balance  at  first  subsisting  among  the  groups  into  which  these 
particles  unite.  Certain  solutions  of  non-crystalline  substances 
in  highly  volatile  liquids,  exhibit  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour 
a whole  series  of  changes  that  are  set  up  in  the  alleged  way.  If 
for  example  a little  shell-lac-varnish  (made  by  dissolving  shell- 
lac  in  coal-naphtha  until  it  is  of  the  consistence  of  cream)  be 
poured  on  a piece  of  paper,  the  surface  of  the  varnish  will 
shortly  become  marked  by  polygonal  divisions,  which,  first 
appearing  round  the  edge  of  the  mass,  spread  toward  its  centre. 
Under  a lens  these  irregular  polygons  of  five  or  more  sides, 
are  seen  to  be  severally  bounded  by  dark  lines,  on  each  side 
of  which  there  are  light-colored  borders.  By  the  addition  of 
matter  to  their  inner  edges,  the  borders  slowly  broaden,  and 
thus  encroach  on  the  areas  of  the  polygons;  until  at  length 
there  remains  nothing  but  a dark  spot  in  the  centre  of  each. 
At  the  same  time  the  boundaries  of  the  polygons  become  curved ; 
and  they  end  by  appearing  like  spherical  sacs  pressed  together; 
strangely  simulating  (but  only  simulating)  a group  of  nucleated 
cells.  Here  a rapid  loss  of  homogeneity  is  exhibited  in  three 
ways : — First,  in  the  formation  of  the  film,  which  is  the  seat 
of  these  changes;  second,  in  the  formation  of  the  polygonal 
sections  into  which  this  film  divides ; and,  third,  in  the  contrast 
that  arises  between  the  polygonal  sections  round  the  edge, 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


351 


where  they  are  small  and  early  formed,  and  those  in  the  centre 
which  are  larger  and  formed  later. 

The  instability  thus  variously  illustrated  is  obviously  conse- 
quent on  the  fact,  that  the  several  parts  of  any  homogeneous 
aggregation  are  necessarily  exposed  to  different  forces  — forces 
that  differ  either  in  kind  or  amount;  and  being  exposed  to 
different  forces  they  are  of  necessity  differently  modified.  The 
relations  of  outside  and  inside,  and  of  comparative  nearness 
to  neighboring  sources  of  influence,  imply  the  reception  of 
influences  that  are  unlike  in  quantity  or  quality,  or  both;  and 
it  follows  that  unlike  changes  will  be  produced  in  the  parts 
thus  dissimilarly  acted  upon. 

For  like  reasons  it  is  manifest  that  the  process  must 
repeat  itself  in  each  of  the  subordinate  groups  of  units  that 
are  differentiated  by  the  modifying  forces.  Each  of  these 
subordinate  groups,  like  the  original  group,  must  gradually, 
in  obedience  to  the  influences  acting  upon  it,  lose  its  balance 
of  parts  — must  pass  from  a uniform  into  a multiform  state. 
And  so  on  continuously.  Whence  indeed  it  is  clear  that  not 
only  must  the  homogeneous  lapse  into  the  non-homogeneous, 
but  that  the  more  homogeneous  must  tend  ever  to  become  less 
homogeneous.  If  any  given  whole,  instead  of  being  absolutely 
uniform  throughout,  consist  of  parts  distinguishable  from  each 
other  — if  each  of  these  parts,  while  somewhat  unlike  other 
parts,  is  uniform  within  itself;  then,  each  of  them  being  in 
unstable  equilibrium,  it  follows  that  while  the  changes  set  up 
within  it  must  render  it  multiform,  they  must  at  the  same 
time  render  the  whole  more  multiform  than  before.  The  gen- 
eral principle,  now  to  be  followed  out  in  its  applications,  is 
thus  somewhat  more  comprehensive  than  the  title  of  the  chapter 
implies.  No  demurrer  to  the  conclusions  drawn,  can  be  based 
on  the  ground  that  perfect  homogeneity  nowhere  exists;  since, 
whether  that  state  with  which  we  commence  be  or  be  not  one 
of  perfect  homogeneity,  the  process  must  equally  be  toward  a 
relative  heterogeneity. 

§ 150.  The  stars  are  distributed  with  a three-fold  irregu- 
larity. There  is  first  the  marked  contrast  between  the  plane 
of  the  milky  way  and  other  parts  of  the  heavens,  in  respect 
of  the  quantities  of  stars  within  given  visual  areas.  There 


352 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


are  secondary  contrasts  of  like  kind  in  the  milky  way  itself, 
which  has  its  thick  and  thin  places;  as  well  as  throughout 
the  celestial  spaces  in  general,  which  are  much  more  closely 
strewn  in  some  regions  than  in  others.  And  there  is  a third 
order  of  contrasts  produced  by  the  aggregation  of  stars  into 
small  clusters.  Besides  this  heterogeneity  of  distribution  of 
the  stars  in  general,  considered  without  distinction  of  kinds,  a 
further  such  heterogeneity  is  disclosed  when  they  are  classified 
by  their  differences  of  color,  which  doubtless  answer  to  differ- 
ences of  physical  constitution.  While  the  yellow  stars  are'  found 
in  all  parts  of  the  heavens,  the  red  and  blue  stars  are  not  so: 
there  are  wide  regions  in  which  both  red  and  blue  stars  are 
rare;  there  are  regions  in  which  the  blue  occur  in  considerable 
numbers,  and  there  are  other  regions  in  which  the  red  are 
comparatively  abundant.  Yet  one  more  irregularity  of  like 
significance  is  presented  by  the  nebulae  — aggregations  of  mat- 
ter which,  whatever  be  their  nature,  most  certainly  belong  to 
our  sidereal  system.  For  the  nebulae  are  not  dispersed  with 
anything  like  uniformity;  but  are  abundant  around  the  poles 
of  the  galactic  circle  and  rare  in  the  neighborhood  of  its  plane. 
No  one  will  expect  that  anything  like  a definite  interpretation 
of  this  structure  can  be  given  on  the  hypothesis  of  Evolution, 
or  any  other  hypothesis.  The  most  that  can  be  looked  for  is 
some  reason  for  thinking  that  irregularities,  not  improbably 
of  these  kinds,  would  occur  in  the  course  of  Evolution,  sup- 
posing it  to  have  taken  place.  Any  one  called  on  to  assign 
such  reason  might  argue,  that  if  the  matter  of  which  stars 
and  all  other  celestial  bodies  consist,  be  assumed  to  have  origi- 
nally existed  in  a diffused  form  throughout  a space  far  more 
vast  even  than  that  which  our  sidereal  system  now  occupies, 
the  instability  of  the  homogeneous  would  negative  its  continu- 
ance in  that  state.  In  default  of  an  absolute  balance  among 
the  forces  with  which  the  dispersed  particles  acted  on  each 
other  (which  could  not  exist  in  any  aggregation  having  limits) 
he  might  show  that  motion  and  consequent  changes  of  distribu- 
tion would  necessarily  result.  The  next  step  in  the  argument 
would  be  that  in  matter  of  such  extreme  tenuity  and  feeble 
cohesion  there  would  be  motion  toward  local  centres  of  gravity, 
as  well  as  toward  the  general  centre  of  gravity;  just  as,  to 
use  a humble  illustration,  the  particles  of  -a  precipitate  aggregate 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


353 


into  flocculi  at  the  same  time  that  they  sink  toward  the  earth. 
He  might  urge  that  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other,  these 
smallest  and  earliest  local  aggregations  must  gradually  divide 
into  groups,  each  concentrating  to  its  own  centre  of  gravity  — 
a process  which  must  repeat  itself  on  a larger  and  larger  scale. 
In  conformity  with  the  law  that  motion  once  set  up  in  any 
direction  becomes  itself  a cause  of  subsequent  motion  in  that 
direction,  he  might  further  infer  that  the  heterogeneities  thus 
set  up  would  tend  ever  to  become  more  pronounced.  Estab- 
lished mechanical  principles  would  justify  him  in  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  motions  of  these  irregular  masses  of  slightly 
aggregated  nebular  matter  toward  their  common  centre  of 
gravity  must  be  severally  rendered  curvilinear,  by  the  resistance 
of  the  medium  from  which  they  were  precipitated;  and  that 
in  consequence  of  the  irregularities  of  distribution  already  set 
up,  such  conflicting  curvilinear  motions  must,  by  composition 
of  forces,  end  in  a rotation  of  the  incipient  sidereal  system. 
He  might  without  difficulty  show  that  the  resulting  centrifugal 
force  must  so  far  modify  the  process  of  general  aggregation 
as  to  prevent  anything  like  uniform  distribution  of  the  stars 
eventually  formed  — that  there  must  arise  a contrast  such  as 
we  see  between  the  galactic  circle  and  the  rest  of  the  heavens. 
He  might  draw  the  further  not  unwarrantable  inference,  that 
differences  in  the  process  of  local  concentration  would  prob- 
ably result  from  the  unlikeness  between  the  physical  conditions 
existing  around  the  general  axis  of  rotation  and  those  existing 
elsewhere.  To  which  he  might  add,  that  after  the  formation 
of  distinct  stars,  the  ever-increasing  irregularities  of  distribution 
due  to  continuance  of  the  same  causes  would  produce  that 
patchiness  which  distinguishes  the  heavens  in  both  its  larger 
and  smaller  areas.  We  need  not  here  however  commit  our- 
selves to  such  far-reaching  speculations.  For  the  purposes  of 
the  general  argument  it  is  needful  only  to  show,  that  any  finite 
mass  of  diffused  matter,  even  though  vast  enough  to  form  our 
whole  sidereal  system,  could  not  be  in  stable  equilibrium;  that 
in  default  of  absolute  sphericity,  absolute  uniformity  of  com- 
position, and  absolute  symmetry  of  relation  to  all  forces  external 
to  it,  its  concentration  must  go  on  with  an  ever-increasing 
irregularity;  and  that  thus  the  present  aspect  of  the  heavens 
is  not,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  incongruous  with  the  hypothesis 


354 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


of  a general  evolution  consequent  on  the  instability  of  the 
homogeneous. 

Descending  to  that  more  limited  form  of  the  nebular 
hypothesis  which  regards  the  solar  system  as  having  resulted 
by  gradual  concentration;  and  assuming  this  concentration  to 
have  advanced  so  far  as  to  produce  a rotating  spheroid  of 
nebulous  matter;  let  us  consider  what  further  consequence  the 
instability  of  the  homogeneous  necessitates.  Having  become 
oblate  in  figure,  unlike  in  the  densities  of  its  centre  and  sur- 
face, unlike  in  their  temperatures,  and  unlike  in  the  velocities 
with  which  its  parts  move  round  their  common  axis,  such  a 
mass  can  no  longer  be  called  homogeneous;  and  therefore  any 
further  changes  exhibited  by  it  as  a whole,  can  illustrate  the 
general  law,  only  as  being  changes  from  a more  homogeneous 
to  a less  homogeneous  state.  Changes  of  this  kind  are  to  be 
found  in  the  transformations  of  such  of  its  parts  as  are  still 
homogeneous  within  themselves.  If  we  accept  the  conclusion 
of  Laplace,  that  the  equatorial  portion  of  this  rotating  and 
contracting  spheroid  will  at  successive  stages  acquire  a centri- 
fugal force  great  enough  to  prevent  any  nearer  approach  to 
the  centre  round  which  it  rotates,  and  will  so  be  left  behind  by 
the  inner  parts  of  the  spheroid  in  its  still-continued  contraction ; 
we  shall  find,  in  the  fate  of  the  detached  ring,  a fresh  exempli- 
fication of  the  principle  we  are  following  out.  Consisting  of 
gaseous  matter,  such  a ring,  even  if  absolutely  uniform  at  the 
time  of  its  detachment,  cannot  continue  so.  To  maintain  its 
equilibrium  there  must  be  an  almost  perfect  uniformity  in  the 
action  of  all  external  forces  upon  it  (almost,  we  must  say, 
because  the  cohesion,  even  of  extremely  attenuated  matter, 
might  suffice  to  neutralize  very  minute  disturbances) ; and 
against  this  the  probabilities  are  immense.  In  the  absence  of 
equality  among  the  forces,  internal  and  external,  acting  on  such 
a ring,  there  must  be  a point  or  points  at  which  the  cohesion 
of  its  parts  is  less  than  elsewhere  — a point  or  points  at  which 
rupture  will  therefore  take  place.  Laplace  assumed  that  the 
ring  would  rupture  at  one  place  only ; and  would  then  collapse 
on  itself.  But  this  is  a more  than  questionable  assumption  — 
such  at  least  I know  to  be  the  opinion  of  an  authority  second 
to  none  among  those  now  living.  So  vast  a ring,  consisting  of 
matter  having  such  feeble  cohesion,  must  break  up  into  many 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


355 


parts.  Nevertheless,  it  is  still  inferable  from  the  instability 
of  the  homogeneous,  that  the  ultimate  result  which  Laplace 
predicted  would  take  place.  For  even  supposing  the  masses 
of  nebulous  matter  into  which  such  a ring  separated,  were  so 
equal  in  their  sizes  and  distances  as  to  attract  each  other  with 
exactly  equal  forces  (which  is  infinitely  improbable)  ; yet  the 
unequal  action  of  external  disturbing  ■ forces  would  inevitably 
destroy  their  equilibrium  — there  would  be  one  or  more  points 
at  which  adjacent  masses  would  begin  to  part  company.  Sep- 
aration once  commenced,  wrould  with  ever-accelerating  speed 
lead  to  a grouping  of  the  masses.  And  obviously  a like  result 
would  eventually  take  place  wTith  the  groups  thus  formed;  until 
they  at  length  aggregated  into  a single  mass. 

Leaving  the  region  of  speculative  astronomy,  let  us  consider 
the  Solar  System  as  it  at  present  exists.  And  here  it  will  be 
well,  in  the  first  place,  to  note  a fact  which  may  be  thought  at 
variance  with  the  foregoing  argument  — namely,  the  still-con- 
tinued existence  of  Saturn’s  rings ; and  especially  of  the  internal 
nebulous  ring  lately  discovered.  To  the  objection  that  the 
outer  rings  maintain  their  equilibrium,  the  reply  is  that  the 
comparatively  great  cohesion  of  liquid  or  solid  substance  would 
suffice  to  prevent  any  slight  tendency  to  rupture  from  taking 
effect.  And  that  a nebulous  ring  here  still  preserves  its  con- 
tinuity, does  not  really  negative  the  foregoing  conclusion;  since 
it  happens  under  the  quite  exceptional  influence  of  those  sym- 
metrically disposed  forces  which  the  external  rings  exercise 
on  it.  Here  indeed  it  deserves  to  be  noted,  that  though  at  first 
sight  the  Saturnian  system  appears  at  variance  with  the  doctrine 
that  a state  of  homogeneity  is  one  of  unstable  equilibrium,  it 
does  in  reality  furnish  a curious  confirmation  of  this  doctrine. 
For  Saturn  is  not  quite  concentric  with  his  rings;  and  it  has 
been  proved  mathematically  that  were  he  and  his  rings  con- 
centrically situated,  they  could  not  remain  so : the  homogeneous 
relation  being  unstable,  would  gravitate  into  a heterogeneous 
one.  And  this  fact  serves  to  remind  us  of  the  allied  one  pre- 
sented throughout  the  whole  Solar  System.  All  orbits,  whether 
of  planets  or  satellites,  are  more  or  less  eccentric  — none  of 
them  are  perfect  circles;  and  were  they  perfect  circles  they 
would  soon  become  ellipses.  Mutual  perturbations  would  in- 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


Gi> 

evitably  generate  eccentricities.  That  is  to  say,  the  homo- 
geneous relations  would  lapse  into  heterogeneous  ones. 

§ 151.  Already  so  many  references  have  been  made  to  the 
gradual  formation  of  a crust  over  the  originally  incandescent 
Earth,  that  it  may  be  thought  superfluous  again  to  name  it. 
It  has  not,  however,  been  before  considered  in  connection  with 
the  general  principle  under  discussion.  Here  then  it  must  be 
noted  as  a necessary  consequence  of  the  instability  of  the  homo- 
geneous. In  this  cooling  down  and  solidification  of  the  Earth’s 
surface,  we  have  one  of  the  simplest,  as  well  as  one  of  the 
most  important,  instances,  of  that  change  from  a uniform  to  a 
midtiform  state  which  occurs  in  any  mass  through  exposure 
of  its  different  parts  to  different  conditions.  To  the  differentia- 
tion of  the  Earth’s  exterior  from  its  interior  thus  brought  about, 
we  must  add  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  differentiations  which 
the  exterior  itself  afterward  undergoes,  as  being  similarly 
brought  about.  Were  the  conditions  to  which  the  surface  of 
the  Earth  is  exposed,  alike  in  all  directions,  there  would  be  no 
obvious  reason  why  certain  of  its  parts  should  become  per- 
manently unlike  the  rest.  But  being  unequally  exposed  to  the 
chief  external  centre  of  force  — the  Sun  — its  main  divisions 
become  unequally  modified:  as  the  crust  thickens  and  cools, 
there  arises  that  contrast,  now  so  decided,  between  the  polar 
and  equatorial  regions. 

Along  with  these  most  marked  physical  differentiations  of 
the  Earth,  which  are  manifestly  consequent  on  the  instability 
of  the  homogeneous,  there  have  been  going  on  numerous  chem- 
ical differentiations,  admitting  of  similar  interpretation.  With- 
out raising  the  question  whether,  as  some  think,  the  so-called 
simple  substances  are  themselves  compounded  of  unknown 
elements  (elements  which  we  cannot  separate  by  artificial  heat, 
but  which  existed  separately  when  the  heat  of  the  Earth  was 
greater  than  any  which  we  can  produce)  — without  raising  this 
question,  it  will  suffice  the  present  purpose  to  show  how,  in 
place  of  that  comparative  homogeneity  of  the  Earth’s  crust, 
chemically  considered,  which  must  have  existed  when  its  tem- 
perature was  high,  there  has  arisen,  during  its  cooling,  an 
increasing  chemical  heterogenity : each  element  or  compound, 
being  unable  to  maintain  its  homogeneity  in  presence  of  various 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


357 


surrounding  affinities,  having  fallen  into  heterogeneous  com- 
binations. Let  us  contemplate  this  change  somewhat  in  detail. 
There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  at  an  extreme  heat,  the 
bodies  we  call  elements  cannot  combine.  Even  under  such  heat 
as  can  be  generated  artificially,  some  very  strong  affinities  yield ; 
and  the  great  majority  of  chemical  compounds  are  decomposed 
at  much  lower  temperatures.  Whence  it  seems  not  improbable 
that,  when  the  Earth  was  in  its  first  state  of  incandescence,  there 
were  no  chemical  combinations  at  all.  But  without  drawing 
this  inference,  let  us  set  out  with  the  unquestionable  fact  that 
the  compounds  which  can  exist  at  the  highest  temperatures,  and 
which  must  therefore  have  been  the  first  formed  as  the  Earth 
cooled,  are  those  of  the  simplest  constitutions.  The  protoxides 
— including  under  that  head  the  alkalies,  earths,  etc. — are,  as 
a class,  the  most  fixed  compounds  known : the  majority  of  them 
resisting  decomposition  by  any  heat  we  can  generate.  These, 
consisting  severally  of  one  atom  of  each  component  element,  are 
combinations  of  the  simplest  order  — are  but  one  degree  less 
homogeneous  than  the  elements  themselves.  More  heterogene- 
ous than  these,  more  decomposable  by  heat,  and  therefore  later 
in  the  Earth’s  history,  are  the  deutoxides,  tritoxides,  peroxides, 
etc. ; in  which  two,  three,  four,  or  more  atoms  of  oxygen  are 
united  Avith  one  atom  of  metal  or  other  base.  Still  less  able  to 
resist  heat,  are  the  salts ; which  present  us  Avith  compound  atoms 
each  made  up  of  five,  six,  seven,  eight,  ten,  twelve,  or  more  atoms, 
of  three,  if  not  more,  kinds.  Then  there  are  the  hydrated  salts, 
of  a yet  greater  heterogeneity,  which  undergo  partial  decom- 
position at  much  loAver  temperatures.  After  them  come  the 
further-complicated  supersalts  and  double  salts,  having  a stabil- 
ity again  decreased;  and  so  throughout.  After  making  a few 
unimportant  qualifications  demanded  by  peculiar  affinities,  I be- 
lieve no  chemist  will  deny  it  to  be  a general  law  of  these  inor- 
ganic combinations  that,  other  things  equal,  the  stability  de- 
creases as  the  complexity  increases.  And  then  when  we  pass  to 
the  compounds  that  make  up  organic  bodies,  we  find  this  general 
law  still  further  exemplified:  AAre  find  much  greater  complexity 
and  much  less  stability.  An  atom  of  albumen,  for  instance,  con- 
sists of  482  ultimate  atoms  of  five  different  kinds.  Fibrine, 
still  more  intricate  in  constitution,  contains  in  each  atom,  298 
atoms  of  carbon,  49  of  nitrogen,  2 of  sulphur,  228  of  hydrogen. 


358 


FIRST  PRINCIFLES 


and  92  of  oxygen  — in  all,  660  atoms;  or,  more  strictly  speaking 
■ — -equivalents.  And  these  two  substances  are  so  unstable  as 
to  decompose  at  quite  moderate  temperatures;  as  that  to  which 
the  outside  of  a joint  of  roast  meat  is  exposed.  Possibly  it  will 
be  objected  that  some  inorganic  compounds,  as  phosphuretted 
hydrogen  and  chloride  of  nitrogen,  are  more  decomposable  than 
most  organic  compounds.  This  is  true.  But  the  admission  may 
be  made  without  damage  to  the  argument.  The  proposition  is 
not  that  all  simple  combinations  are  more  fixed  than  all  com- 
plex ones.  To  establish  our  inference  it  is  necessary  only  to 
show  that,  as  an  average  fact , the  simple  combinations  can  exist 
at  a higher  temperature  than  the  complex  ones.  And  this  is 
wholly  beyound  question.  Thus  it  is  manifest  that  the  present 
chemical  heterogeneity  of  the  Earth’s  surface  has  arisen  by  de- 
grees as  the  decrease  of  heat  has  permitted;  and  that  it  has 
shown  itself  in  three  forms  - — first,  in  the  multiplication  of 
chemical  compounds;  second,  in  the  greater  number  of  different 
elements  contained  in  the  more  modern  of  these  compounds; 
and  third,  in  the  higher  and  more  varied  multiples  in  which 
these  more  numerous  elements  combine. 

Without  specifying  them,  it  will  suffice  just  to  name  the 
meteorologic  processes  eventually  set  up  in  the  Earth’s  atmos- 
phere, as  further  illustrating  the  alleged  law.  They  equally  dis- 
play that  destruction  of  a homogeneous  state  which  results  from 
unequal  exposure  to  incident  forces. 

§ 152.  Take  a mass  of  unorganized  but  organizable  matter 
— either  the  body  of  one  of  the  lowest  living  forms,  or  the 
germ  of  one  of  the  higher.  Consider  its  circumstances.  Either 
it  is  immersed  in  water  or  air,  or  it  is  contained  within  a parent 
organism.  Wherever  placed,  however,  its  outer  and  inner  parts 
stand  differently  related  to  surrounding  agencies  — nutriment, 
oxygen,  and  the  various  stimuli.  But  this  is  not  all.  Whether 
it  lies  quiescent  at  the  bottom  of  the  water  or  on  the  leaf  of  a 
plant ; whether  it  moves  through  the  water  preserving  some 
definite  attitude;  or  whether  it  is  in  the  inside  of  an  adult;  it 
equally  results  that  certain  parts  of  its  surface  are  more  exposed 
to  surrounding  agencies  than  other  parts  — in  some  cases  more 
exposed  to  light,  heat,  or  oxygen,  and  in  others  to  the  maternal 
tissues  and  their  contents.  Hence  must  follow  the  destruction 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


350 


of  its  original  equilibrium.  This  may  take  place  in  one  of  two 
ways.  Either  the  disturbing  forces  may  be  such  as  to  over- 
balance the  affinities  of  the  organic  elements,  in  which  case  there 
result  those  changes  which  are  known  as  decomposition;  or,  as 
is  ordinarily  the  case,  such  changes  are  induced  as  do  not  de- 
stroy the  organic  compounds,  but  only  modify  them : the  parts 
most  exposed  to  the  modifying  forces  being  most  modified.  To 
elucidate  this,  suppose  we  take  a few  cases. 

Note  first  what  appear  to  be  exceptions.  Certain  minute  ani- 
mal forms  present  us  either  with  no  appreciable  differentiations 
or  with  differentiations  so  obscure  as  to  be  made  out  with  great 
difficulty.  In  the  Ehizopods,  the  substance  of  the  jelly-like  body 
remains  throughout  life  unorganized,  even  to  the  extent  of  hav- 
ing no  limiting  membrane;  as  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  the 
thread-like  processes  protruded  by  the  mass  coalesce  on  touching 
each  other.  Whether  or  not  the  nearly  allied  Amoeba,  of  which 
the  less  numerous  and  more  bulky  processes  do  not  coalesce,  has, 
as  lately  alleged,  something  like  a cell-wall  and  a nucleus,  it  is 
clear  that  the  distinction  of  parts  is  very  slight;  since  particles 
of  food  pass  bodily  into  the  inside  through  any  part  of  the 
periphery,  and  since  when  the  creature  is  crushed  to  pieces  each 
piece  behaves  as  the  whole  did.  Now  these  cases,  in  which  there 
is  either  no  contrast  of  structure  between  exterior  and  interior 
or  very  little,  though  seemingly  opposed  to  the  above  inference, 
are  really  very  significant  evidences  of  its  truth.  For  what  is 
the  peculiarity  of  this  division  of  the  Protozoa  ? Its  members 
undergo  perpetual  and  irregular  changes  of  form  — ■ they  show 
no  persistent  relation  of  parts.  What  lately  formed  a portion 
of  the  interior  is  now  protruded,  and,  as  a temporary  limb,  is 
attached  to  some  object  it  happens  to  touch.  What  is  now  a 
part  of  the  surface  will  presently  be  drawn,  along  with  the  atom 
of  nutriment  sticking  to  it,  into  the  centre  of  the  mass.  Either 
the  relations  of  inner  and  outer  have  no  permanent  existence,  or 
they  are  very  slightly  marked.  But  by  the  hypothesis,  it  is  only 
because  of  their  unlike  positions  with  respect  to  modifying 
forces,  that  the  originally  like  units  of  a living  mass  become 
unlike.  We  must  therefore  expect  no  established  differentia- 
tion of  parts  in  creatures  which  exhibit  no  established  differences 
of  position  in  their  parts;  and  we  must  expect  extremely  little 
differentiation  of  parts  where  the  differences  of  position  are  but 


3G0 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


little  determined  — which  is  just  what  we  find.  This  negative 
evidence  is  borne  out  by  positive  evidence.  When  we  turn  from 
these  proteiform  specks  of  living  jelly  to  organisms  having  an 
unchanging  distribution  of  substance,  we  find  differences  of 
tissue  corresponding  to  differences  of  relative  position.  In  all 
the  higher  Protozoa , as  also  in  the  Protophyta , we  meet  with  a 
fundamental  differentiation  into  cell-membrane  and  cell-con- 
tents;  answering  to  that  fundamental  contrast  of  conditions  im- 
plied by  the  terms  outside  and  inside.  On  passing  from  what 
are  roughly  classed  as  unicellular  organisms,  to  the  lowest  of 
those  which  consist  of  aggregated  cells,  we  equally  observe  the 
connection  between  structural  differences  and  differences  of  cir- 
cumstance. Negatively,  we  see  that  in  the  sponge,  permeated 
throughout  by  currents  of  sea-water,  the  indefiniteness  of  organ- 
ization corresponds  with  the  absence  of  definite  unlikeness  of 
conditions : the  peripheral  and  central  portions  are  as  little  con- 
trasted in  structure  as  in  exposure  to  surrounding  agencies. 
While  positively,  we  see  that  in  a form  like  the  Thalassicolla, 
which,  though  equally  humble,  maintains  its  outer  and  inner 
parts  in  permanently  unlike  circumstances,  there  is  displayed  a 
rude  structure  obviously  subordinated  to  the  primary  relations 
of  centre  and  surface:  in  all  its  many  and  important  varieties, 
the  parts  exhibit  a more  or  less  concentric  arrangement. 

After  this  primary  modification,  by  which  the  outer  tissues 
are  differentiated  from  the  inner,  the  next  in  order  of  con- 
stancy and  importance  is  that  by  which  some  part  of  the  outer 
tissues  is  differentiated  from  the  rest;  and  this  corresponds  with 
the  almost  universal  fact  that  some  part  of  the  outer  tissues  is 
more  exposed  to  certain  environing  influences  than  the  rest. 
Here,  as  before,  the  apparent  exceptions  are  extremely  signifi- 
cant. Some  of  the  lowest  vegetal  organisms,  as  the  Hematococci 
and  Protococci,  evenly  imbedded  in  a mass  of  mucus,  or  dis- 
persed through  the  Arctic  snow,  display  no  differentiations  of 
surface;  the  several  parts  of  their  surfaces  being  subjected  to  no 
definite  contrasts  of  conditions.  Ciliated  spheres  such  as  the 
Volvox  have  no  parts  of  their  periphery  unlike  other  parts ; and 
it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  they  should  have;  since,  as  they 
revolve  in  all  directions,  they  do  not,  in  traversing  the  water, 
permanently  expose  any  part  to  special  conditions.  But  when 
we  come  to  organisms  that  are  either  fixed,  or  while  moving 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


361 


preserve  definite  attitudes,  we  no  longer  find  uniformity  of  sur- 
face. The  most  general  fact  which  can  be  asserted  with  respect 
to  the  structures  of  plants  and  animals,  is,  that  however  much 
alike  in  shape  and  texture  the  various  parts  of  the  exterior  may 
at  first  be,  they  acquire  unlikenesses  corresponding  to  the  unlike- 
nesses of  their  relations  to  surrounding  agencies.  The  ciliated 
germ  of  a Zoophyte,  which,  during  its  locomotive  stage,  is  dis- 
tinguishable only  into  outer  and  inner  tissues,  no  sooner  be- 
comes fixed,  than  its  upper  end  begins  to  assume  a different 
structure  from  its  lower.  The  disk-shaped  gemmce  of  the 
Marchaniia , originally  alike  on  both  surfaces,  and  falling  at  ran- 
dom with  either  side  uppermost,  immediately  begin  to  develop 
rootlets  on  the  under  side,  and  stomata  on  the  upper  side:  a 
fact  proving  beyond  question  that  this  primary  differentiation  is 
determined  by  this  fundamental  contrast  of  conditions. 

Of  course  in  the  germs  of  higher  organisms,  the  metamor- 
phoses immediately  due  to  the  instability  of  the  homogeneous, 
are  soon  masked  by  those  due  to  the  assumption  of  the  heredi- 
tary type.  Such  early  changes,  however,  as  are  common  to  all 
classes  of  organisms,  and  so  cannot  be  ascribed  to  heredity,  en- 
tirely conform  to  the  hypothesis.  A germ  which  has  under- 
gone no  developmental  modifications,  consists  of  a spheroidal 
group  of  homogeneous  cells.  Universally,  the  first  step  in  its 
evolution  is  the  establishment  of  a difference  between  some  of 
the  peripheral  cells  and  the  cells  which  form  the  interior  — some 
of  the  peripheral  cells,  after  repeated  spontaneous  fissions, 
coalesce  into  a membrane;  and  by  continuance  of  the  process 
this  membrane  spreads  until  it  speedily  invests  the  entire  mass, 
as  in  mammals,  or,  as  in  birds,  stops  short  of  that  for  some 
time.  Here  we  have  two  significant  facts.  The  first  is,  that  the 
primary  unlikeness  arises  between  the  exterior  and  the  interior. 
The  second  is,  that  the  change  which  thus  initiates  development, 
does  not  take  place  simultaneously  over  the  whole  exterior;  but 
commences  at  one  place,  and  gradually  involves  the  rest.  Now 
these  facts  are  just  those  which  might  be  inferred  from  the 
instability  of  the  homogeneous.  The  surface  must,  more  than 
any  other  part,  become  unlike  the  centre,  because  it  is  most  dis- 
similarly conditioned ; and  all  parts  of  the  surface  cannot  simul- 
taneously exhibit  this  differentiation,  because  they  cannot  be 
exposed  to  the  incident  forces  with  absolute  uniformity.  One 


3G2 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


other  general  fact  of  like  implication  remains.  Whatever  be 
the  extent  of  this  peripheral  layer  of  cells,  or  blastoderm  as  it  is 
called,  it  presently  divides  into  two  layers  — the  serous  and 
mucous ; or,  as  they  have  been  otherwise  called,  the  ectoderm  and 
the  endoderm.  The  first  of  these  is  formed  from  that  portion 
of  the  layer  which  lies  in  contact  with  surrounding  agents;  and 
the  second  of  them  is  formed  from  that  portion  of  the  layer 
which  lies  in  contact  with  the  contained  mass  of  yelk.  That  is 
to  say,  after  the  primary  differentiation,  more  or  less  extensive, 
af  surface  from  centre,  the  resulting  superficial  portion  under- 
goes a secondary  differentiation  into  inner  and  outer  parts  — a 
differentiation  which  is  clearly  of  the  same  order  with  the  pre- 
ceding, and  answers  to  the  next  most  marked  contrast  of  con- 
ditions. 

But,  as  already  hinted,  this  principle,  understood  in  the  simple 
form  here  presented,  supplies  no  key  to  the  detailed  phenomena 
of  organic  development.  It  fails  entirely  to  explain  generic  and 
specific  peculiarities;  and  indeed  leaves  us  equally  in  the  dark 
respecting  those  more  important  distinctions  by  which  families 
and  orders  are  marked  out.  Why  two  ova,  similarly  exposed  in 
the  same  pool,  should  become  the  one  a fish,  and  the  other  a 
reptile,  it  cannot  tell  us.  That  from  two  different  eggs  placed 
under  the  same  hen,  should  respectively  come  forth  a duckling 
and  a chicken,  is  a fact  not  to  be  accounted  for  on  the  hypothesis 
above  developed.  We  have  here  no  alternative  but  to  fall  back 
upon  the  unexplained  principle  of  hereditary  transmission.  The 
capacity  possessed  by  an  unorganized  germ  of  unfolding  into  a 
complex  adult,  which  repeats  ancestral  traits  in  the  minutest  de- 
tails, and  that  even  when  it  has  been  placed  in  conditions  unlike 
those  of  its  ancestors,  is  a capacity  we  cannot  at  present  under- 
stand. That  a microscopic  portion  of  seemingly  structureless 
matter  should  embody  an  influence  of  such  kind  that  the  result- 
ing man  will  in  fifty  years  after  become  gouty  or  insane,  is  a 
truth  which  would  be  incredible  were  it  not  daily  illustrated. 
Should  it  however  turn  out,  as  we  shall  hereafter  find  reason  for 
suspecting,  that  these  complex  differentiations  which  adults  ex- 
hibit, are  themselves  the  slowly  accumulated  and  transmitted 
results  of  a process  like  that  seen  in  the  first  changes  of  the 
germ;  it  will  follow  that  even  those  embryonic  changes  due  to 
hereditary  influence,  are  remote  consequences  of  the  alleged  law. 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


363 


Should  it  be  shown  that  the  slight  modifications  wrought  during 
life  on  each  adult,  and  bequeathed  to  offspring  along  with  all  like 
preceding  modifications,  are  themselves  unlikenesses  of  parts 
that  are  produced  by  unlikenesses  of  conditions ; then  it  will 
follow  that  the  modifications  displayed  in  the  course  of  em- 
bryonic development,  are  partly  direct  consequences  of  the  in- 
stability of  the  homogeneous,  and  partly  indirect  consequences 
of  it.  To  give  reasons  for  entertaining  this  hypothesis,  however, 
is  not  needful  for  the  justification  of  the  position  here  taken. 
It  is  enough  that  the  most  conspicuous  differentiations  which 
incipient  organisms  universally  display,  correspond  to  the  most 
marked  differences  of  conditions  to  which  their  parts  are  sub- 
ject. It  is  enough  that  the  habitual  contrast  between  outside 
and  inside,  which  we  know  is  produced  in  inorganic  masses  by 
unlikeness  of  exposure  to  incident  forces,  is  strictly  paralleled 
by  the  first  contrast  that  makes  its  appearance  in  all  organic 
masses. 

It  remains  to  point  out  that  in  the  assemblage  of  organisms 
constituting  a species,  the  principle  enunciated  is  equally  trace- 
able. We  have  abundant  materials  for  the  induction  that  each 
species  will  not  remain  uniform,  but  is  ever  becoming  to  some 
extent  multiform;  and  there  is  ground  for  the  deduction  that 
this  lapse  from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity  is  caused  by  the 
subjection  of  its  members  to  unlike  sets  of  circumstances.  The 
fact  that  in  every  species,  animal  and  vegetal,  the  individuals 
are  never  quite  alike;  joined  with  the  fact  that  there  is  in  every 
species  a tendency  to  the  production  of  differences  marked 
enough  to  constitute  varieties ; form  a sufficiently  wide  basis  for 
the  induction.  While  the  deduction  is  confirmed  by  the  familiar 
experience  that  varieties  are  most  numerous  and  decided  where, 
as  among  cultivated  plants  and  domestic  animals,  the  conditions 
of  life  depart  from  the  original  ones,  most  widely  and  in  the 
most  numerous  ways.  Whether  we  regard  “ natural  selection  ” 
as  wholly,  or  only  in  part,  the  agency  through  which  varieties  are 
established,  matters  not  to  the  general  conclusion.  For  as  the 
survival  of  any  variety  proves  its  constitution  to  be  in  harmon}r 
with  a certain  aggregate  of  surrounding  forces  — as  the  multi- 
plication of  a variety  and  the  usurpation  by  it  of  an  area 
previously  occupied  by  some  other  part  of  the  species,  implies 
different  effects  produced  by  such  aggregate  of  forces  on  the  two. 


364 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


it.  is  clear  that  this  aggregate  of  forces  is  the  real  cause  of  the 
differentiation  — it  is  clear  that  if  the  variety  supplants  the 
original  species  in  some  localities  but  not  in  others,  it  does  so 
because  the  aggregate  of  forces  in  the  one  locality  is  unlike  that 
in  the  other  — it  is  clear  that  the  lapse  of  the  species,  from  a 
state  of  homogeneity  to  a state  of  heterogeneity  arises  from  the 
exposure  of  its  different  parts  to  different  aggregates  of  forces. 

§ 153.  Among  mental  phenomena  it  is  difficult  to  establish 
the  alleged  law  without  an  analysis  too  extensive  for  the  occasion. 
To  show  satisfactorily  how  states  of  consciousness,  originally 
homogeneous,  become  heterogeneous  through  differences  in  the 
changes  wrought  by  different  forces,  would  require  us  carefully 
to  trace  out  the  organization  of  early  experiences.  Were  this 
done  it  would  become  manifest  that  the  development  of  intelli- 
gence, is,  under  one  of  its  chief  aspects,  a dividing  into  separate 
classes  the  unlike  things  previously  confounded  together  in  one 
class  — ■ a formation  of  sub-classes  and  sub-sub-classes,  until  the 
once  confused  aggregate  of  objects  known  is  resolved  into  an 
aggregate  which  unites  extreme  heterogeneity  among  its  multi- 
plied groups,  with  complete  homogeneity  among  the  members 
of  each  group.  If,  for  example,  we  followed,  through  ascending 
grades  of  creatures,  the  genesis  of  that  vast  structure  of  know- 
ledge acquired  by  sight,  we  should  find  that  in  the  first  stage, 
where  eyes  suffice  for  nothing  beyond  the  discrimination  of  light 
from  darkness,  the  only  possible  classifications  of  objects  seen, 
must  be  those  based  on  the  manner  in  which  light  is  obstructed, 
and  the  degree  in  which  it  is  obstructed.  We  should  find  that  by 
such  undeveloped  visual  organs,  the  shadows  traversing  the  rudi- 
mentary retina  would  be  merely  distinguished  into  those  of  the 
stationary  objects  which  the  creature  passed  during  its  own 
movements,  and  those  of  the  moving  objects  which  came  near 
the  creature  while  it  was  at  rest ; and  that  so  the  extremely  gen- 
eral classification  of  visible  things  into  stationary  and  moving, 
would  be  the  earliest  formed.  We  should  find  that  whereas  the 
simplest  eyes  are  not  fitted  to  distinguish  between  an  obstruction 
of  light  caused  by  a small  object  close  to,  and  an  obstruction 
caused  by  a large  object  at  some  distance,  eyes  a little  more  de- 
veloped must  be  competent  to  such  a distinction;  whence  must 
result  a vague  differentiation  of  the  class  of  moving  objects  into 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


365 


the  nearer  and  the  more  remote.  We  should  find  that  such  fur- 
ther improvements  in  vision  as  those  which  make  possible  a bet- 
ter estimation  of  distances  by  adjustment  of  the  optic  axes,  and 
those  which,  through  enlargement  and  subdivision  of  the  retina, 
make  possible  the  discrimination  of  shapes,  must  have  the  effects 
of  giving  greater  definiteness  to  the  classes  already  formed,  and 
of  subdividing  these  into  smaller  classes,  consisting  of  objects 
less  unlike.  And  we  should  find  that  each  additional  refinement 
of  the  perceptive  organs,  must  similarly  lead  to  a multiplication 
of  divisions  and  a sharpening  of  the  limits  of  each  division.  In 
every  infant  might  be  traced  the  analogous  transformation  of  a 
confused  aggregate  of  impressions  of  surrounding  objects,  not 
recognized  as  differing  in  their  distances,  sizes,  and  shapes,  into 
separate  classes  of  objects  unlike  each  other  in  these  and  various 
other  respects.  And  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other,  it  might  be 
shown  that  the  change  from  this  first  indefinite,  incoherent  and 
comparatively  homogeneous  consciousness,  to  a definite  coherent, 
and  heterogeneous  one,  is  due  to  differences  in  the  actions  of  in- 
cident forces  on  the  organism.  These  brief  indications  of  what 
might  be  shown,  did  space  permit,  must  here  suffice.  Probably 
they  will  give  adequate  clew  to  an  argument  by  which  each  reader 
may  satisfy  himself  that  the  course  of  mental  evolution  offers  no 
exception  to  the  general  law.  In  further  aid  of  such  an  argu- 
ment, I will  here  add  an  illustration  that  is  comprehensible  apart 
from  the  process  of  mental  evolution  as  a whole. 

It  has  been  remarked  (I  am  told  by  Coleridge,  though  I have 
been  unable  to  find  the  passage)  that  with  the  advance  of  lan- 
guage, words  which  were  originally  alike  in  their  meanings  ac- 
quire unlike  meanings  — a change  which  he  expresses  by  the 
formidable  word  “ desynonymization.”  Among  indigenous 
words  this  loss  of  equivalence  cannot  he  clearly  shown ; because 
in  them  the  divergences  of  meaning  began  before  the  dawn  of 
literature.  But  among  words  that  have  been  coined,  or  adopted 
from  other  languages,  since  the  writing  of  books  commenced,  it 
is  demonstrable.  In  the  old  divines,  miscreant  is  used  in  its 
etymological  sense  of  unbeliever;  but  in  modern  speech  it  has 
entirely  lost. this  sense.  Similarly  with  evil-doer  and  malefactor: 
exactly  synonymous  as  these  are  by  derivation,  they  are  no  longer 
synonymous  by  usage:  by  a malefactor  we  now  understand  a 
convicted  criminal,  which  is  far  from  being  the  acceptation  of 


3GG 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


evil-doer.  The  verb  produce , bears  in  Euclid  its  primary  mean- 
ing— to  prolong , or  draw  out ; but  the  now  largely  developed 
meanings  of  produce  have  little  in  common  with  the  meanings 
of  prolong , or  draw  out.  In  the  Church  of  England  Liturgy,  an 
odd  effect  results  from  the  occurrence  of  prevent  in  its  original 
sense  — to  come  before , instead  of  its  modern  specialized  sense 
- — to  come  before  with  the  effect  of  arresting.  But  the  most 
conclusive  cases  are  those  in  which  the  contrasted  words  consist 
of  the  same  parts  differently  combined;  as  in  go  under  and  un- 
dergo. We  go  under  a tree,  and  we  undergo  a pain.  But 
though,  if  analytically  considered,  the  meanings  of  these  expres- 
sions would  be  the  same  were  the  words  transposed,  habit  has  so 
far  modified  their  meanings  that  we  could  not  without  absurdity 
speak  of  undergoing  a tree  and  going  under  a pain.  Countless 
such  instances  might  be  brought  to  show  that  between  two  words 
which  are  originally  of  like  force,  an  equilibrium  cannot  bo 
maintained.  Unless  they  are  daily  used  in  exactly  equal  de- 
grees, in  exactly  similar  relations  (against  which  there  are 
infinite  probabilities) , there  necessarily  arises  a habit  of  associat- 
ing one  rather  than  the  other  with  particular  acts,  or  objects. 
Such  a habit,  once  commenced,  becomes  confirmed;  and  grad- 
ually their  homogeneity  of  meaning  disappears.  In  each  in- 
dividual we  may  see  the  tendency  which  inevitably  leads  to  this 
result.  A certain  vocabulary  and  a certain  set  of  phrases  dis- 
tinguish the  speech  of  each  person : each  person  habitually  uses 
certain  words  in  places  where  other  words  are  habitually  used 
by  other  persons ; and  there  is  a continual  recurrence  of  favorite 
expressions.  This  inability  to  maintain  a balance  in  the  use  of 
verbal  symbols,  which  characterizes  every  man,  characterizes,  by 
consequence,  aggregates  of  men;  and  the  desynonymization  of 
words  is  the  ultimate  effect. 

Should  any  difficulty  be  felt  in  understanding  how  these  men- 
tal changes  exemplify  a law  of  physical  transformations  that  are 
wrought  by  physical  forces,  it  will  disappear  on  contemplating 
acts  of  mind  as  nervous  functions.  It  will  be  seen  that  each  loss 
of  equilibrium  above  instanced  is  a loss  of  functional  equality 
between  some  two  elements  of  the  nervous  system.  And  it  will 
be  seen  that,  as  in  other  cases,  this  loss  of  functional  equality  is 
due  to  differences  in  the  incidence  of  forces. 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


367 


§ 154.  Masses  of  men,  in  common  with  all  other  masses,  show 
a like  proclivity  similarly  caused.  Small  combinations  and  large 
societies  equally  manifest  it ; and  in  the  one,  as  in  the  other,  both 
governmental  and  industrial  differentiations  are  initiated  by  it. 
Let  us  glance  at  the  facts  under  these  two  heads. 

A business  partnership,  balanced  as  the  authorities  of  its 
members  may  theoretically  be,  practically  becomes  a union  in 
which  the  authority  of  one  partner  is  tacitly  recognized  as  greater 
than  that  of  the  other  or  others.  Though  the  shareholders  have 
given  equal  powers  to  the  directors  of  their  company,  inequalities 
of  power  soon  arise  among  them;  and  usually  the  supremacy  of 
some  one  director  grows  so  marked  that  his  decisions  determine 
the  course  which  the  board  takes.  Nor  in  associations  for  polit- 
ical, charitable,  literary,  or  other  purposes,  do  we  fail  to  find 
a like  process  of  division  into  dominant  and  subordinate  parties ; 
each  having  its  leader,  its  members  of  less  influence,  and  its 
mass  of  uninfluential  members.  These  minor  instances  in  which 
unorganized  groups  of  men,  standing  in  homogeneous  relations, 
may  be  watched  gradually  passing  into  organized  groups  of  men 
standing  in  heterogeneous  relations,  give  us  the  key  to  social 
inequalities.  Barbarous  and  civilized  communities  are  alike 
characterized  by  separation  into  classes,  as  well  as  by  separation 
of  each  class  into  more  important  and  less  important  units ; and 
this  structure  is  manifestly  the  gradually-consolidated  result  of 
a process  like  that  daily  exemplified  in  trading  and  other  com- 
binations. So  long  as  men  are  constituted  to  act  on  one  an- 
other, either  by  physical  force  or  by  force  of  character,  the 
struggles  for  supremacy  must  finally  be  decided  in  favor  of  some 
one;  and  the  difference  once  commenced  must  tend  to  become 
ever  more  marked.  Its  unstable  equilibrium  being  destroyed,  the 
uniform  must  gravitate  with  increasing  rapidity  into  the  multi- 
form. And  so  supremacy  and  subordination  must  establish 
themselves,  as  we  see  they  do,  throughout  the  whole  structure  of 
a society,  from  the  great  class-divisions  pervading  its  entire  body, 
down  to  village  cliques,  and  even  down  to  every  posse  of  school- 
boys. Probably  it  will  be  objected  that  such  changes  result,  not 
from  the  homogeneity  of  the  original  aggregations,  but  from 
their  non-homogeneity  — from  certain  slight  differences  exist- 
ing among  their  units  at  the  outset.  This  is  doubtless  the 
proximate  cause.  In  strictness,  such  changes  must  be  regarded 


3G8 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


as  transformations  of  tlie  relatively  homogeneous  into  the  rela- 
tively heterogeneous.  But  it  is  abundantly  clear  that  an  aggre- 
gation of  men,  absolutely  alike  in  their  endowments,  would 
eventually  undergo  a similar  transformation.  For  in  the  ab- 
sence of  perfect  uniformity  in  the  lives  severally  led  by  them  — 
in  their  occupations,  physical  conditions,  domestic  relations,  and 
trains  of  thought  and  feeling  — there  must  arise  differences 
among  them;  and  these  must  finally  initiate  social  differentia- 
tions. Even  inequalities  of  health  caused  by  accidents,  must, 
by  entailing  inequalities  of  physical  and  mental  power,  disturb 
the  exact  balance  of  mutual  influences  among  the  units ; and 
the  balance,  once  disturbed,  must  inevitably  be  lost.  Whence, 
indeed,  besides  seeing  that  a body  of  men  absolutely  homo- 
geneous in  their  governmental  relations,  must,  like  all  other 
homogeneous  bodies,  become  heterogeneous,  we  also  see  that  it 
must  do  this  from  the  same  ultimate  cause  — unequal  exposure 
of  its  parts  to  incident  forces. 

The  first  industrial  divisions  of  societies  are  much  more  ob- 
viously due  to  unlikenesses  of  external  circumstances.  Such 
divisions  are  absent  until  such  unlikenesses  are  established. 
Nomadic  tribes  do  not  permanently  expose  any  groups  of  their 
members  to  special  local  conditions;  nor  does  a stationary  tribe, 
when  occupying  only  a small  area,  maintain  from  generation  to 
generation  marked  contrasts  in  the  local  conditions  of  its  mem- 
bers ; and  in  such  tribes  there  are  no  decided  economical  differ- 
entiations. But  a community  which,  growing  populous,  has  over- 
spread a large  tract,  and  has  become  so  far  settled  that  its  mem- 
bers live  and  die  in  their  respective  districts,  keeps  its  several 
sections  in  different  physical  circumstances;  and  then  they  no 
longer  remain  alike  in  their  occupations.  Those  who  live  dis- 
persed continue  to  hunt  or  cultivate  the  earth ; those  who  spread 
to  the  sea-shore  fall  into  maritime  occupations;  while  the  in- 
habitants of  some  spot  chosen,  perhaps  for  its  centrality,  as  one 
of  periodical  assemblage,  become  traders,  and  a town  springs 
up.  Each  of  these  classes  undergoes  a modification  of  character 
consequent  on  its  function,  and  better  fitting  it  to  its  function. 
Later  in  the  process  of  social  evolution  these  local  adaptations 
are  greatly  multiplied.  A result  of  differences  in  soil  and  cli- 
mate, is  that  the  rural  inhabitants  in  different  parts  of  the  king- 
dom have  their  occupations  partially  specialized;  and  become  re- 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


3G9 


spectively  distinguished  as  chiefly  producing  cattle,  or  sheep,  or 
wheat,  or  oats,  or  hops,  or  cider.  People  living  where  coal-fields 
are  discovered  are  transformed  into  colliers;  Cornishmen  take 
to  mining  because  Cornwall  is  metalliferous;  and  the  iron-man- 
ufacture is  the  dominant  industry  where  iron-stone  is  plentiful. 
Liverpool  has  assumed  the  office  of  importing  cotton,  in  conse- 
quence of  its  proximity  to  the  district  where  cotton  goods  are 
made;  and  for  analogous  reasons,  Hull  has  become  the  chief 
port  at  which  foreign  wools  are  brought  in.  Even  in  the  estab- 
lishment of  breweries,  of  dye-works,  of  slate-quarries,  of  brick- 
yards, we  may  see  the  same  truth.  So  that  both  in  general  and 
in  detail,  the  specializations  of  the  social  organism  which  char- 
acterize separate  districts,  primarily  depend  on  local  circum- 
stances. Those  divisions  of  labor  which  under  another  aspect 
were  interpreted  as  due  to  the  setting  up  of  motion  in  the  Erec- 
tions of  least  resistance  (§  80),  are  here  interpreted  as  due  to 
differences  in  the  incident  forces;  and  the  two  interpretations 
are  quite  consistent  with  each  other.  For  that  which  in  each 
case  determines  the  direction  of  least  resistance,  is  the  distribu- 
tion of  the  forces  to  be  overcome;  and  hence  unlikeness  of  dis- 
tribution in  separate  localities,  entails  unlikenesses  in  the  course 
of  human  action  in  those  localities  — entails  industrial  differen- 
tiations. 

§ 155.  It  has  still  to  be  shown  that  this  general  truth  is 
demonstrable  a priori.  We  have  to  prove  specifically  that  the 
instability  of  the  homogeneous  is  a corollary  from  the  persistence 
of  force.  Already  this  has  been  tacitly  implied  by  assigning  un- 
likeness in  the  exposure  of  its  parts  to  surrounding  agencies,  as 
the  reason  why  a uniform  mass  loses  its  uniformity.  But  here  it 
will  be  proper  to  expand  this  tacit  implication  into  definite 
proof. 

On  striking  a mass  of  matter  with  such  force  as  either  to  in- 
dent it  or  make  it  fly  to  pieces,  we  see  both  that  the  blow  affects 
differently  its  different  parts,  and  that  the  differences  are  con- 
sequent on  the  unlike  relations  of  its  parts  to  the  force  impressed. 
The  part  with  which  the  striking  body  comes  in  contact,  receiv- 
ing the  whole  of  the  communicated  momentum,  is  driven  in 
toward  the  centre  of  the  mass.  It  thus  compresses  and  tends 
to  displace  the  more  centrally  situated  portions  of  the  mass. 


370 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


These,  however,  cannot  be  compressed  or  thrust  out  of  their 
places  without  pressing  on  all  surrounding  portions.  And  when 
the  blow  is  violent  enough  to  fracture  the  mass,  we  see,  in  the 
radial  dispersion  of  its  fragments,  that  the  original  momentum, 
in  being  distributed  throughout  it,  lias  been  divided  into  nu- 
merous minor  momenta,  unlike  in  their  directions.  We  see  that 
these  directions  are  determined  by  the  positions  of  the  parts  with 
respect  to  each  other,  and  with  respect  to  the  point  of  impact. 
We  see  that  the  parts  are  differently  affected  by  the  disruptive 
force,  because  they  are  differently  related  to  it  in  their  directions 
and  attachments  — that  the  effects  being  the  joint  products  of 
the  cause  and  the  conditions,  cannot  be  alike  in  parts  which  are 
differently  conditioned.  A body  on  which  radiant  heat  is 
falling,  exemplifies  this  truth  still  more  clearly.  Taking  the 
simplest  case  (that  of  a sphere)  we  see  that  while  the  part  near- 
est to  the  radiating  centre  receives  the  rays  at  right  angles,  the 
rays  strike  the  other  parts  of  the  exposed  side  at  all  angles  from 
90°  down  to  0°.  Again,  the  molecular  vibrations  propagated 
through  the  mass  from  the  surface  which  receives  the  heat,  must 
proceed  inward  at  angles  differing  for  each  point.  Further 
the  interior  parts  of  the  sphere  affected  by  the  vibrations  pro- 
ceeding from  all  points  of  the  heated  side,  must  be  dissimilarly 
affected  in  proportion  as  their  positions  are  dissimilar.  So  that 
whether  they  be  on  the  recipient  area,  in  the  middle,  or  at  the 
remote  side,  the  constituent  atoms  are  all  thrown  into  states  of 
vibration  more  or  less  unlike  each  other. 

But  now,  what  is  the  ultimate  meaning  of  the  conclusion  that 
a uniform  force  produces  different  changes  throughout  a uni- 
form mass,  because  the  parts  of  the  mass  stand  in  different  re- 
lations to  the  force?  Fully  to  understand  this,  we  must  con- 
template each  part  as  simultaneously  subject  to  other  forces  — 
those  of  gravitation,  of  cohesion,  of  molecular  motion,  etc.  The 
effect  wrought  by  an  additional  force,  must  be  a resultant  of  it 
and  the  forces  already  in  action.  If  the  forces  already  in  action 
on  two  parts  of  any  aggregate,  are  different  in  their  directions, 
the  effects  produced  on  these  two  parts  by  like  forces  must  be 
different  in  their  directions.  Why  must  they  be  different? 
They  must  be  different  because  such  unlikeness  as  exists  between 
the  two  sets  of  factors,  is  made  by  the  presence  in  the  one  of 
some  specially-directed  force  that  is  not  present  in  the  other; 


THE  INSTABILITY  OF  THE  HOMOGENEOUS 


371 


and  that  this  force  will  produce  an  effect,  rendering  the  total 
result  in  the  one  case  unlike  that  in  the  other,  is  a necessary 
corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force.  Still  more  manifest  does 
it  become  that  the  dissimilarly-placed  parts  of  any  aggregate 
must  be  dissimilarly  modified  by  an  incident  force,  when  we  re- 
member that  the  quantities  of  the  incident  force  to  which  they 
are  severally  subject,  are  not  equal,  as  above  supposed;  but  are 
nearly  always  very  unequal.  The  outer  parts  of  masses  are 
usually  alone  exposed  to  chemical  actions ; and  not  only  are  their 
inner  parts  shielded  from  the  affinities  of  external  elements,  but 
such  affinities  are  brought  to  bear  unequally  on  their  surfaces; 
since  chemical  action  sets  up  currents  through  the  medium  in 
which  it  takes  place,  and  so  brings  to  the  various  parts  of  the 
surface  unequal  quantities  of  the  active  agent.  Again,  the 
amounts  of  any  external  radiant  force  which  the  different  parts 
of  an  aggregate  receive,  are  widely  contrasted : we  have  the  con- 
trast between  the  quantity  falling  on  the  side  next  the  radiating 
centre,  and  the  quantity,  or  rather  no  quantity,  falling  on  the 
opposite  side ; we  have  contrasts  in  the  quantities  received  by  dif- 
ferently-placed areas  on  the  exposed  side;  and  we  have  endless 
contrasts  between  the  quantities  received  by  the  various  parts  of 
the  interior.  Similarly  when  mechanical  force  is  expended  on 
any  aggregate,  either  by  collision,  continued  pressure,  or  tension, 
the  amounts  of  strain  distributed  throughout  the  mass  are  mani- 
festly unlike  for  unlike  positions.  But  to  say  the  different  parts 
of  an  aggregate  receive  different  quantities  of  any  incident  force, 
is  to  say  that  their  states  are  modified  by  it  in  different  degrees 
- — is  to  say  that  if  they  were  before  homogeneous  in  their  rela- 
tions they  must  be  rendered  to  a proportionate  extent  hetero- 
geneous; since,  force  being  persistent,  the  different  quantities 
of  it  falling  on  the  different  parts,  must  work  in  them  different 
quantities  of  effect  — different  changes.  Yet  one  more  kindred 
deduction  is  required  to  complete  the  argument.  We  may,  by 
parallel  reasoning,  reach  the  conclusion  that,  even  apart  from  the 
action  of  any  external  force,  the  equilibrium  of  a homogeneous 
aggregate  must  be  destroyed  by  the  unequal  actions  of  its  parts 
on  each  other.  That  mutual  influence  which  produces  aggre- 
gation (not  to  mention  other  mutual  influences)  must  work  dif- 
ferent effects  on  the  different  parts;  since  they  are  severally  ex- 
posed to  it  in  unlike  amounts  and  directions.  This  will  be 
clearly  seen  on  remembering  that  the  portions  of  which  the 


372 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


whole  is  made  up,  may  be  severally  regarded  as  minor  wholes; 
that  on  each  of  these  minor  wholes,  the  action  of  the  entire  ag- 
gregate then  becomes  an  external  incident  force;  that  such  ex- 
ternal incident  force  must,  as  above  shown,  work  unlike  change s 
in  the  parts  of  any  such  minor  whole;  and  that  if  the  minor 
wholes  are  severally  thus  rendered  heterogeneous,  the  entire 
aggregate  is  rendered  heterogeneous. 

The  instability  of  the  homogeneous  is  thus  deducible  from 
that  primordial  truth  which  underlies  our  intelligence.  One 
stable  homogeneity  only,  is  hypothetically  possible.  If  centres 
of  force,  absolutely  uniform  in  their  powers,  were  diffused  with 
absolute  uniformity  through  unlimited  space,  they  would  remain 
in  equilibrium.  This  however,  though  a verbally  intelligible 
supposition,  is  one  that  cannot  be  represented  in  thought ; since 
unlimited  space  is  inconceivable.  But  all  finite  forms  of  the 
homogeneous  — all  forms  of  it  which  we  can  know  or  conceive, 
must  inevitably  lapse  into  heterogeneity.  In  three  several  ways 
does  the  persistence  of  force  necessitate  this.  Setting  external 
agencies  aside,  each  unit  of  a homogeneous  whole  must  be  dif- 
ferently affected  from  any  of  the  rest  by  the  aggregate  action  of 
the  rest  upon  it.  The  resultant  force  exercised  by  the  aggregate 
on  each  unit,  being  in  no  two  cases  alike  in  both  amount  and 
direction,  and  usually  not  in  either,  any  incident  force,  even  if 
uniform  in  amount  and  direction,  cannot  produce  like  effects  on 
the  units.  And  the  various  positions  of  the  parts  in  relation  to 
any  incident  force,  preventing  them  from  receiving  it  in  uniform 
amounts  and  directions,  a further  difference  in  the  effects 
wrought  on  them  is  inevitably  produced. 

One  further  remark  is  needed.  To  the  conclusion  that  the 
changes  with  which  Evolution  commences  are  thus  necessitated, 
remains  to  be  added  the  conclusion  that  these  changes  must  con- 
tinue. The  absolutely  homogeneous  must  lose  its  equilibrium; 
and  the  relatively  homogeneous  must  lapse  into  the  relatively 
less  homogeneous.  That  which  is  true  of  any  total  mass,  is  true 
of  the  parts  into  which  it  segregates.  The  uniformity  of  each 
such  part  must  as  inevitably  be  lost  in  multiformity,  as  was  that 
of  the  original  whole;  and  for  like  reasons.  And  thus  the  con- 
tinued changes  which  characterize  Evolution,  in  so  far  as  they 
are  constituted  by  the  lapse  of  the  homogeneous  into  the  hetero- 
geneous, and  of  the  less  heterogeneous  into  the  more  hetero- 
geneous, are  necessary  consequences  of  the  persistence  of  foree. 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


373 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS. 

§ 156.  To  the  cause  of  increasing  complexity  set  forth  in 
the  last  chapter,  we  have  in  this  chapter  to  add  another.  Though 
secondary  in  order  of  time,  it  is  scarcely  secondary  in  order 
of  importance.  Even  in  the  absence  of  the  cause  already 
assigned,  it  would  necessitate  a change  from  the  homogeneous 
to  the  heterogeneous;  and  joined  with  it,  it  makes  this  change 
both  more  rapid  and  more  involved.  To  come  in  sight  of  it,  we 
have  but  to  pursue  a step  further,  that  conflict  between  force 
and  matter  already  delineated.  Let  us  do  this. 

When  a uniform  aggregate  is  subject  to  a uniform  force,  we 
have  seen  that  its  constituents,  being  differently  conditioned,  are 
differently  modified.  But  while  we  have  contemplated  the  va- 
rious parts  of  the  aggregate  as  thus  undergoing  unlike  changes, 
we  have  not  yet  contemplated  the  unlike  changes  simultaneously 
produced  on  the  various  parts  of  the  incident  force.  These 
must  be  as  numerous  and  important  as  the  others.  Action  and 
reaction  being  equal  and  opposite,  it  follows  that  in  differen- 
tiating the  parts  on  which  it'  falls  in  unlike  ways,  the  incident 
force  must  itself  be  correspondingly  differentiated.  Instead  of 
being,  as  before,  a uniform  force,  it  must  thereafter  be  a multi- 
form force  — a group  of  dissimilar  forces.  A few  illustrations 
will  make  this  truth  manifest. 

A single  force  is  divided  by  conflict  with  matter  .into  forces 
that  widely  diverge.  In  the  case  lately  cited,  of  a body  shattered 
by  violent  collision,  besides  the  change  of  the  homogeneous  mass 
into  a heterogeneous  group  of  scattered  fragments,  there  is  a 
change  of  the  homogeneous  momentum  into  a group  of  momenta, 
heterogeneous  in  both  amounts  and  directions.  Similarly  with 
the  forces  we  know  as  light  and  heat.  After  the  dispersion 
of  these  by  a radiating  body  toward  all  points,  they  are  redis- 


374 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


persed  toward  all  points  by  the  bodies  on  which  they  fall.  Of 
the  Sun’s  rays,  issuing  from  him  on  every  side,  some  few  strike 
the  Moon.  These  being  reflected  at  all  angles  from  the  Moon’s 
surface,  some  few  of  them  strike  the  Earth.  By  a like  process 
the  few  which  reach  the  Earth  are  again  diffused  through  sur- 
rounding space.  And  on  each  occasion,  such  portions  of  the 
rays  as  are  absorbed  instead  of  reflected,  undergo  refractions 
that  equally  destroy  their  parallelism.  More  than  this  is  true. 
By  conflict  with  matter,  a uniform  force  is  in  part  changed  into 
forces  differing  in  their  directions ; and  in  part  it  is  changed  into 
forces  differing  in  their  kinds.  When  one  body  is  struck  against 
another,  that  which  we  usually  regard  as  the  effect,  is  a change 
of  position  or  motion  in  one  or  both  bodies.  But  a moment’s 
thought  shows  that  this  is  a very  incomplete  view  of  the  matter. 
Besides  the  visible  mechanical  result,  sound  is  produced;  or, 
to  speak  accurately,  a vibration  in  one  or  both  bodies,  and  in  the 
surrounding  air : and  under  some  circumstances  we  call  this  the 
effect.  Moreover,  the  air  has  not  simply  been  made  to  vibrate, 
but  has  had  currents  raised  in  it  by  the  transit  of  the  bodies. 
Further,  if  there  is  not  that  great  structural  change  which  we 
call  fracture,  there  is  a disarrangement  of  the  particles  of 
the  two  bodies  around  their  point  of  collision;  amounting  in 
some  cases  to  a visible  condensation.  Yet  more,  this  condensa- 
tion is  accompanied  by  disengagement  of  heat.  In  some  cases 
a spark  — that  is,  light  — results,  from  the  incandescence  of  a 
portion  struck  off ; and  occasionally  this  incandescence  is  asso- 
ciated with  chemical  combination.  Thus,  by  the  original  me- 
chanical force  expended  in  the  collision,  at  least  five,  and  often 
more,  different  kinds  of  forces  have  been  produced.  Take,  again, 
the  lighting  of  a candle.  Primarily,  this  is  a chemical  change 
consequent  on  a rise  of  temperature.  The  process  of  combina- 
tion having  once  been  set  going  by  extraneous  heat,  there  is  a 
continued  formation  of  carbonic  acid,  water,  etc. — in  itself  a 
result  more  complex  than  the  extraneous  heat  that  first  caused  it. 
But  along  with  this  process  of  combination  there  is  a produc- 
tion of  heat ; there  is  a production  of  light ; there  is  an  ascend- 
ing column  of  hot  gases  generated ; there  are  currents  established 
in  the  surrounding  air.  Nor  does  the  decomposition  of  one  force 
into  many  foi’ces  end  here.  Each  of  the  several  changes  worked 
becomes  the  parent  of  further  changes.  The  carbonic  acid 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


375 


formed,  will  by  and  by  combine  with  some  base;  or  under  the 
influence  of  sunshine  give  up  its  carbon  to  the  leaf  of  a plant. 
The  water  will  modify  the  hygrometric  state  of  the  air'  around; 
or,  if  the  current  of  hot  gases  containing  it  come  against  a 
cold  body,  will  be  condensed:  altering  the  temperature,  and 
perhaps  the  chemical  state,  of  the  surface  it  covers.  The  heat 
given  out  melts  the  subjacent  tallow,  and  expands  whatever 
it  warms.  The  light,  falling  on  various  substances,  calls  forth 
from  them  reactions  by  which  it  is  modified;  and  so  divers 
colors  are  produced.  Similarly  even  with  these  secondary 
actions,  which  may  be  traced  out  into  ever-multiplying  rami- 
fications, until  they  become  too  minute  to  be  appreciated.  Uni- 
versally, then,  the  effect  is  more  complex  than  the  cause. 
Whether  the  aggregate  on  which  it  falls  be  homogeneous  or 
otherwise,  an  incident  force  is  transformed  by  the  conflict  into 
a number  of  forces  that  differ  in  their  amounts,  or  directions, 
or  kinds ; or  in  all  these  respects.  And  of  this  group  of 
variously-modified  forces,  each  ultimately  undergoes  a like 
transformation. 

Let  us  now  mark  how  the  process  of  evolution  is  furthered 
by  this  multiplication  of  effects.  An  incident  force  decom- 
posed by  the  reactions  of  a body  into  a group  of  unlike  forces 
— a uniform  force  thus  reduced  to.  a multiform  force  — becomes 
the  cause  of  a secondary  increase  of  multiformity  in  the  body 
which  decomposes  it.  In  the  last  chapter  we  saw  that  the 
several  parts  of  an  aggregate  are  differently  modified  by  any 
incident  force.  It  has  just  been  shown  that  by  the  reactions 
of  the  differently  modified  parts,  the  incident  force  itself  must 
be  divided  into  differently  modified  parts.  Here  it  remains 
to  point  out  that  each  differentiated  division  of  the  aggregate, 
thus  becomes  a centre  from  which  a differentiated  division  of 
the  original  force  is  again  diffused.  And  since  unlike  forces 
must  produce  unlike  results,  each  of  these  differentiated  forces 
must  produce,  throughout  the  aggregate,  a further  series  of 
differentiations.  This  secondary  cause  of  the  change  from 
homogeneity  to  heterogeneity,  obviously  becomes  more  potent 
in  proportion  as  the  heterogeneity  increases.  When  the  parts 
into  which  any  evolving  whole  has  segregated  itself,  have 
diverged  widely  in  nature,  they  will  necessarily  react  very 
diversely  on  any  incident  force  — they  will  divide  an  incident 


376 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


force  into  so  many  strongly  contrasted  groups  of  forces.  And 
each  of  them  becoming  the  centre  of  a quite  distinct  set  of 
influences,  must  add  to  the  number  of  distinct  secondary 
changes  wrought  throughout  the  aggregate.  Yet  another 
corollary  must  be  added.  The  number  of  unlike  parts  of  which 
an  aggregate  consists,  as  well  as  the  degree  of  their  unlikeness, 
is  an  important  factor  in  the  process.  Every  additional  spe- 
cialized division  is  an  additional  centre  of  specialized  forces. 
If  a uniform  whole,  in  being  itself  made  multiform  by  an 
incident  force,  makes  the  incident  force  multiform;  if  a whole 
consisting  of  two  unlike  sections,  divides  an  incident  force 
into  two  unlike  groups  of  multiform  forces;  it  is  clear  that 
each  new  unlike  section  must  be  a further  source  of  complica- 
tion among  the  forces  at  work  throughout  the  mass  ■ — a further 
source  of  heterogeneity.  The  multiplication  of  effects  must 
proceed  in  geometrical  progression.  Each  stage  of  evolution 
must  initiate  a higher  stage. 

§ 157.  The  force  of  aggregation  acting  on  irregular  masses 
of  rare  matter,  diffused  through  a resisting  medium,  will  not 
cause  such  masses  to  move  in  straight  lines  to  their  common 
centre  of  gravity;  but,  as  before  said,  each  will  take  a curvilinear 
path,  directed  to  one  or  other  side  of  the  centre  of  gravity.  All 
of  them  being  differently  conditioned,  gravitation  will  impress 
on  eacli  a motion  differing  in  direction,  in  velocity,  and  in 
the  degree  of  its  curvature  — uniform  aggregative  force  will 
be  differentiated  into  multiform  momenta.  The  process  thus 
commenced,  must  go  on  till  it  produces  a single  mass  of 
nebulous  matter;  and  these  independent  curvilinear  motions 
must  result  in  a movement  of  this  mass  round  its  axis : a 
simultaneous  condensation  and  rotation  in  which  we  see  how 
two  effects  of  the  aggregative  force,  at  first  but  slightly 
divergent,  become  at  last  widely  differentiated.  A gradual  in- 
crease of  oblateness  in  this  revolving  spheroid,  must  take  place 
through  the  joint  action  of  these  two  forces,  as  the  bulk 
diminishes  and  the  rotation  grows  more  rapid ; and  this  we 
may  set  down  as  a third  effect.  The  genesis  of  heat,  which 
must  accompany  augmentation  of  density,  is  a consequence  of 
yet  another  order  — a consequence  by  no  means  simple ; since 
the  various  parts  of  the  mass,  being  variously  condensed,  must 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


377 


be  variously  heated.  Acting  throughout  a gaseous  spheroid,  of 
which  the  parts  are  unlike  in  their  temperatures,  the  forces 
of  aggregation  and  rotation  must  work  a further  series  of 
changes:  they  must  set  up  circulating  currents,  both  general 
and  local.  At  a later  stage  light  as  well  as  heat  will  be  gen- 
erated. Thus  without  dwelling  on  the  likelihood  of  chemical 
combinations  and  electric  disturbances,  it  is  sufficiently  mani- 
fest that,  supposing  matter  to  have  originally  existed  in  a 
diffused  state,  the  once  uniform  force  which  caused  its 
aggregation,  must  have  become  gradually  divided  into  different 
forces;  and  that  each  further  stage  of  complication  in  the 
resulting  aggregate,  must  have  initiated  further  subdivisions 
of  this  force  — a further  multiplication  of  effects,  increasing 
the  previous  heterogeneity. 

This  section  of  the'  argument  may  however  be  adequately 
sustained,  without  having  recourse  to  any  such  hypothetical 
illustrations  as  the  foregoing.  The  astronomical  attributes  of 
the  Earth  will  even  alone  suffice  our  purpose.  Consider  first 
the  effects  of  its  momentum  round  its  axis.  There  is  the 
oblateness  of  its  form;  there  is  the  alternation  of  day  and 
night;  there  are  certain  constant  marine  currents;  and  there 
are  certain  constant  aerial  currents.  Consider  next  the  se- 
condary series  of  consequences  due  to  the  divergence  of  the 
Earth’s  plane  of  rotation  from  the  plane  of  its  orbit.  The 
many  differences  of  the  seasons,  both  simultaneous  and  suc- 
cessive, which  pervade  its  surface,  are  thus  caused.  External 
attraction  acting  on  this  rotating  oblate  spheroid  with  inclined 
axis,  produces  the  motion  called  nutation,  and  that  slower  and 
larger  one  -from  which  follows  the  precession  of  the  equinoxes, 
with  its  several  sequences.  And  then  b}^  this  same  force  are 
generated  the  tides,  aqueous  and  atmospheric. 

Perhaps,  however,  the  simplest  way  of  showing  the  multi- 
plication of  effects  among  phenomena  of  this  order  will  be 
to  set  down  the  influences  of  any  member  of  the  Solar  System 
on  the  rest.  A planet  directly  produces  in  neighboring  planets 
certain  appreciable  perturbations,  complicating  those  otherwise 
produced  in  them;  and  in  the  remoter  planets  it  directly  pro- 
duces certain  less  visible  perturbations.  Here  is  a first  series 
of  effects.  But  each  of  the  perturbed  planets  is  itself  a source 
of  perturbations  — each  directly  affects  all  the  others.  Hence, 


37S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


planet  A having  drawn  planet  B out  of  the  position  it  would 
have  occupied  in  A’s  absence,  the  perturbations  which  B causes 
are  different  from  what  they  would  else  have  been;  and  sim- 
ilarly with  C,  D,  E,  etc.  Here  then  is  a secondary  series  of 
effects : far  more  numerous  though  far  smaller  in  their 
amounts.  As  these  indirect  perturbations  must  to  some  extent 
modify  the  movements  of  each  planet,  there  results  from  them 
a tertiary  series;  and  so  on  continually.  Thus  the  force  exer- 
cised by  any  planet  works  a different  effect  on  each  of  the  rest; 
this  different  effect  is  from  each  as  a centre  partially  broken 
up  into  minor  different  effects  on  the  rest;  and  so  on  in 
ever  multiplying  and  diminishing  waves  throughout  the  entire 
system. 

§ 158.  If  the  Earth  was  formed  by  the  concentration  of 
diffused  matter,  it  must  at  first  have  been  incandescent;  and 
whether  the  nebular  hypothesis  be  accepted  or  not,  this  original 
incandescence  of  the  Earth  must  now  be  regarded  as  inductively 
established  — ■ or,  if  not  established,  at  least  rendered  so  prob- 
able that  it  is  a generally  admitted  geological  doctrine.  Several 
results  of  the  gradual  cooling  of  the  Earth  — as  the  formation 
of  a crust,  the  solidification  of  sublimed  elements,  the  pre- 
cipitation of  water,  etc.,  have  been  already  noticed  — and  I 
here  again  refer  to  them  merely  to  point  out  that  they  are 
simultaneous  effects  of  the  one  cause,  diminishing  heat.  Let 
us  now,  however,  observe  the  multiplied  changes  afterward 
arising  from  the  continuance  of  this  one  cause.  The  Earth, 
falling  in  temperature,  must  contract.  Hence  the  solid  crust 
at  any  time  existing,  is  presently  too  large  for  the  shrinking 
nucleus;  and  being  unable  to  support  itself,  inevitably  follows 
the  nucleus.  But  a spheroidal  envelope  cannot  sink  down  into 
contact  with  a smaller  internal  spheroid,  without  disruption: 
it  will  run  into  wrinkles,  as  the  rind  of  an  apple  does  when 
the  bulk  of  its  interior  decreases  from  evaporation.  As  the 
cooling  progresses  and  the  envelope  thickens,  the  ridges  con- 
sequent on  these  contractions  must  become  greater;  rising 
ultimately  into  hills  and  mountains;  and  the  later  systems  of 
mountains  thus  produced  must  not  only  be  higher,  as  we  find 
them  to  be,  but  they  must  be  longer,  as  we  also  find  them  to  be. 
Thus,  leaving  out  of  view  other  modifying  forces,  we  see  what 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


379 


immense  heterogeneity  of  surface  arises  from  the  one  cause, 
loss  of  heat  — a heterogeneity  which  the  telescope  shows  us 
to  be  paralleled  on  the  Moon,  where  aqueous  and  atmospheric 
agencies  have  been  absent.  But  we  have  yet  to  notice  another 
kind  of  heterogeneity  of  surface,  similarly  and  simultaneously 
caused.  While  the  Earth’s  crust  was  still  thin,  the  ridges  pro- 
duced by  its  contraction  must  not  only  have  been  small,  but 
the  tracts  between  them  must  have  rested  with  comparative 
smoothness  on  the  subjacent  liquid  spheroid;  and  the  water 
in  those  arctic  and  antarctic  regions  where  it  first  condensed, 
must  have  been  evenly  distributed.  But  as  fast  as  the  crust 
grew  thicker  and  gained  corresponding  strength,  the  lines  of 
fracture  from  time  to  time  caused  in  it,  necessarily  occurred 
at  greater  distances  apart;  the  intermediate  surfaces  followed 
the  contracting  nucleus  with  less  uniformity;  and  there  con- 
sequently resulted  larger  areas  of  land  and  water.  If  any  one, 
after  wrapping  an  orange  in  wet  tissue  paper,  and  observing 
both  how  small  are  the  wrinkles  and  how  evenly  the  intervening 
spaces  lie  on  the  surface  of  the  orange,  will  then  wrap  it  in 
thick  cartridge-paper,  and  note  both  the  greater  height  of  the 
ridges  and  the  larger  spaces  throughout  which  the  paper  does 
not  touch  the  orange,  he  will  realize  the  fact,  that  as  the 
Earth’s  solid  envelope  thickened,  the  areas  of  elevation  and 
depression  became  greater.  In  place  of  islands  more  or  less 
homogeneously  scattered  over  an  all-embracing  sea,  there  must 
have  gradually  arisen  heterogeneous  arrangements  of  continent 
and  ocean,  such  as  we  now  know.  This  double  change  in  the 
extent  and  in  the  elevation  of  the  lands,  involved  yet  another 
species  of  heterogeneity  — that  of  coast-line.  A tolerably  even 
surface  raised  out  of  the  ocean  will  have  a simple  regular  sea- 
margin;  but  a surface  varied  by  tablelands  and  intersected  by 
mountain-chains,  will,  when  raised  out  of  the  ocean,  have  an 
outline  extremely  irregular,  alike  in  its  leading  features  and 
in  its  details.  Thus  endless  is  the  accumulation  of  geological 
and  geographical  results  slowly  brought  about  by  this  one  cause 
— the  escape  of  the  Earth’s  primitive  heat. 

When  we  pass  from  the  agency  which  geologists  term 
igneous,  to  aqueous  and  atmospheric  agencies,  we  see  a like 
ever-growing  complication  of  effects.  The  denuding  actions 
of  air  and  water  diave,  from  the  beginning,  been  modifying 


380 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


every  exposed  surface : everywhere  working  many  different 
changes.  As  already  shown  (§  69)  the  original  source  of  those 
gaseous  and  fluid  motions  which  effect  denudation,  is  the  solar 
heat.  The  transformation  of  this  into  various  modes  of  force, 
according  to  the  nature  and  condition  of  the  matter  on  which 
it  falls,  is  the  first  stage  of  complication.  The  sun’s  rays, 
striking  at  all  angles  a sphere,  that  from  moment  to  moment 
presents  and  withdraws  different  parts  of  its  surface,  and  each 
of  them  for  a different  time  daily  throughout  the  year,  would 
produce  a considerable  variety  of  changes  even  were  the  sphere 
uniform.  But  falling  as  they  do  on  a sphere  surrounded  by 
an  atmosphere  in  some  parts  of  which  wide  areas  of  cloud  are 
suspended,  and  which  here  unveils  vast  tracts  of  sea,  there  of 
level  land,  there  of  mountains,  there  of  snow  and  ice,  they 
initiate  in  its  several  parts  countless  different  movements.  Cur- 
rents of  air  of  all  sizes,  directions,  velocities,  and  temperatures, 
are  set  up;  as  are  also  marine  currents  similarly  contrasted 
in  their  characters.  In  this  region  the  surface  is  giving  off 
water  in  the  state  of  vapor;  in  that,  dew  is  being  precipitated; 
and  in  the  other  rain  is  descending  — differences  that  arise 
from  the  ever-changing  ratio  between  the  absorption  and  radia- 
tion of  heat  in  each  place.  At  one  hour,  a rapid  fall  in  tem- 
perature leads  to  the  formation  of  ice,  with  an  accompanying 
expansion  throughout  the  moist  bodies  frozen;  while  at  another, 
a thaw  unlocks  the  dislocated  fragments  of  these  bodies.  And 
then,  passing  to  a second  stage  of  complication,  we  see  that 
the  many  kinds  of  motion  directly  or  indirectly  caused  by  the 
sun’s  rays,  severally  produce  results  that  vary  with  the  condi- 
tions. Oxidation,  drought,  wind,  frost,  rain,  glaciers,  rivers, 
waves,  and  other  denuding  agents  effect  disintegrations  that 
are  determined  in  their  amounts  and  qualities  by  local  circum- 
stances. Acting  upon  a tract  of  granite,  such  agents  here  work 
scarcely  an  appreciable  effect;  there  cause  exfoliations  of  the 
surface,  and  a resulting  heap  of  debris  and  boulders;  and  else- 
where, after  decomposing  the  felspar  into  a white  clay,  carry 
away  this  with  the  accompanying  quartz  and  mica.,  and  deposit 
them  in  separate  beds,  fluviatile  and  marine.  When  the  exposed 
land  consists  of  several  unlike  formations,  sedimentary  and 
igneous,  changes  proportionablv  more  heterogeneous  are 
wrought.  The  formations  being  disintegrable  in  different  de- 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


381 


grees,  there  follows  an  increased  irregularity  of  surface.  The 
areas  drained  by  different  rivers  being  differently  constituted, 
these  rivers  carry  down  to  the  sea  unlike  combinations  of 
ingredients;  and  so  sundry  new  strata  of  distinct  composition 
arise.  And  here,  indeed,  we  may  see  very  simply  illustrated, 
the  truth,  that  the  heterogeneity  of  the  effects  increases  in  a 
geometrical  progression,  with  the  heterogeneity  of  the  object 
acted  upon.  A continent  of  complex  structure,  presenting  many 
strata  irregularly  distributed,  raised  to  various  levels,  tilted  up 
at  all  angles,  must,  under  the  same  denuding  agencies,  give 
origin  to  immensely  multiplied  results : each  district  must 
be  peculiarly  modified ; each  river  must  carry  down  a distinct 
kind  of  detritus;  each  deposit  must  be  differently  distributed 
by  the  entangled  currents,  tidal  and  other,  which  wash  the 
contorted  shores ; and  every  additional  complication  of  surface 
must  be  the  cause  of  more  than  one  additional  consequence. 
But  not  to  dwell  on  these,  let  us,  for  the  fuller  elucidation  of 
this  truth  in  relation  to  the  inorganic  world,  consider  what 
would  presently  follow  from  some  extensive  cosmical  revolu- 
tion — say  the  subsidence  of  Central  America.  The  immediate 
results  of  the  disturbance  would  themselves  be  sufficiently 
complex.  Besides  the  numberless  dislocations  of  strata,  the 
ejections  of  igneous  matter,  the  propagation  of  earthquake 
vibrations  thousands  of  miles  around,  the  loud  explosions,  and 
the  escape  of  gases,  there  would  be  the  rush  of  the  Atlantic 
and  Pacific  Oceans  to  supply  the  vacant  space,  the  subsequent 
recoil  of  enormous  waves,  which  would  traverse  both  these 
oceans  and  produce  myriads  of  changes  along  their  shores,  the 
corresponding  atmospheric  waves  complicated  by  the  currents 
surrounding  each  volcanic  vent,  and  the  electrical  discharges 
with  which  such  disturbances  are  accompanied.  But  these  tem- 
porary effects  would  be  insignificant  compared  with  the  per- 
manent ones.  The  complex  currents  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
would  be  altered  in  directions  and  amounts.  The  distribution 
of  heat  achieved  by  these  currents  would  be  different  from 
what  it  is.  The  arrangement  of  the  isothermal  lines,  not  only 
on  the  neighboring  continents,  but  even  throughout  Europe, 
would  be  changed.  The  tides  would  flow  differently  from  what 
they  do  now.  There  would  be  more  or  less  modification  of 
the  winds  in  their  periods,  strengths,  directions,  qualities.  Kain 


3S2 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


would  fall  scarcely  anywhere  at  the  same  times  and  in  the 
same  quantities  as  at  present.  In  short,  the  meteorological 
conditions  thousands  of  miles  off,  on  all  sides,  would  be  more 
or  less  revolutionized.  In  these  many  changes,  each  of  which 
comprehends  countless  minor  ones,  the  reader  will  see  the 
immense  heterogeneity  of  the  results  wrought  out  by  one  force, 
when  that  force  expends  itself  on  a previously  complicated 
area;  and  he  will  readily  draw  the  corollary  that  from  the 
beginning  the  complication  has  advanced  at  an  increasing  rate. 

§ 159.  We  have  next  to  trace  throughout  organic  evolution, 
this  same  all-pervading  principle.  And  here,  where  the  trans- 
formation of  the  homogeneous  into  the  heterogeneous  was  first 
observed,  the  production  of  many  changes  by  one  cause  is  least 
easy  to  demonstrate.  The  development  of  a seed  into  a plant, 
or  an  ovum  into  an  animal,  is  so  gradual;  while  the  forces 
which  determine  it  are  so  involved,  and  at  the  same  time  so 
unobtrusive;  that  it  is  difficult  to  detect  the  multiplication 
of  effects  which  is  elsewhere  so  obvious.  Nevertheless,  by  in- 
direct evidence  we  may  establish  our  proposition ; spite  of  the 
lack  of  direct  evidence. 

Observe,  first,  how  numerous  are  the  changes  which  any 
marked  stimulus  works  on  an  adult  organism  — a human  being, 
for  instance.  An  alarming  sound  or  sight,  besides  impressions 
on  the  organs  of  sense  and  the  nerves,  may  produce  a start,  a 
scream,  a distortion  of  the  face,  a trembling  consequent  on 
general  muscular  relaxation,  a burst  of  perspiration,  an  excited 
action  of  the  heart,  a rush  of  blood  to  the  brain,  followed 
possibly  by  arrest  of  the  heart’s  action  and  by  syncope;  and 
if  the  system  be  feeble,  an  illness  with  its  long  train  of  com- 
plicated symptoms  may  set  in.  Similarly  in  cases  of  disease. 
A minute  portion  of  the  smallpox  virus  introduced  into  the 
system  will,  in  a severe  case,  cause,  during  the  first  stage,  rigors, 
heat  of  skin,  accelerated  pulse,  furred  tongue,  loss  of  appetite, 
thirst,  epigastric  uneasiness,  vomiting,  headache,  pains  in  the 
back  and  limbs,  muscular  weakness,  convulsions,  delirium,  etc. ; 
in  the  second  stage,  cutaneous  eruption,  itching,  tingling,  sore 
throat,  swelled  fauces,  salivation,  cough,  hoarseness,  dyspnoea, 
etc. ; and  in  the  third  stage,  oedematous  inflammations,  pneu- 
monia, pleurisy,  diarrhoea,  inflammation  of  the  brain,  ophthal- 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


383 


mia,  erysipelas,  etc. : each  of  which  enumerated  symptoms  is 
itself  more  or  less  complex.  Medicines,  special  foods,  better 
air,  might  in  like  manner  be  instanced  as  producing  multiplied 
results.  Now  it  needs  only  to  consider  that  the  many  changes 
thus  wrought  by  one  force  on  an  adult  organism,  must  be 
partially  parallel  in  an  embryo-organism,  to  understand  how 
here  also  the  production  of  many  effects  by  one  cause  is  a 
source  of  increasing  heterogeneity.  The  external  heat  and 
other  agencies  which  determine  the  first  complications  of  the 
germ,  will,  by  acting  on  these,  superinduce  further  complica- 
tions; on  these  still  higher  and  more  numerous  ones;  and  so 
on  continually:  each  organ,  as  it  is  developed,  serving,  by  its 
actions  and  reactions  on  the  rest,  to  initiate  new  complexities. 
The  first  pulsations  of  the  fcetal  heart  must  simultaneously  aid 
the  unfolding  of  every  part.  The  growth  of  each  tissue,  by 
taking  from  the  blood  special  proportions  of  elements,  must 
modify  the  constitution  of  the  blood;  and  so  must  modify 
the  nutrition  of  all  the  other  tissues.  The  distributive 
actions,  implying  as  they  do  a certain  waste,  necessitate  an 
addition  to  the  blood  of  effete  matters,  which  must  influence 
the  rest  of  the  system,  and  perhaps,  as  some  think,  initiate  the 
formation  of  excretory  organs.  The  nervous  connections  estab- 
lished among  the  viscera  must  further  multiply  their  mutual 
influences.  And  so  with  every  modification  of  structure  — every 
additional  part  and  every  alteration  in  the  ratios  of  parts.  Still 
stronger  becomes  the  proof  when  we  call  to  mind  the  fact, 
that  the  same  germ  may  be  evolved  into  different  forms  accord- 
ing to  circumstances.  Thus,  during  its  earlier  stages,  every 
embryo  is  sexless  — becomes  either  male  or  female  as  the 
balance  of  forces  acting  on  it  determines.  Again,  it  is  well- 
known  that  the  larva  of  a working-bee  will  develop  into  a 
queen-bee,  if,  before  a certain  period,  its  food  be  changed  to 
that  on  which  the  larvae  of  queen-bees  are  fed.  Even  more 
remarkable  is  the  case  of  certain  entozoa.  The  ovum  of  a 
tape-worm,  getting  into  the  intestine  of  one  animal,  unfolds 
into  the  form  of  its  parent;  but  if  carried  into  other  parts 
of  the  system,  or  into  the  intestine  of  some  unlike  animal,  it 
becomes  one  of  the  sac-like  creatures,  called  by  naturalists 
Cysticerci,  or  Coznuri,  or  Echinococci  — creatures  so  extremely 
different  from  the  tape-worm  in  aspect  and  structure,  that 


384 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


only  after  careful  investigations  have  they  been  proved  to  have 
the  same  origin.  All  which  instances  imply  that  each  advance 
in  embryonic  complication  results  from  the  action  of  incident 
forces  on  the  complication  previously  existing.  Indeed,  the 
now  accepted  doctrine  of  epigenesis  necessitates  the  conclusion 
that  organic  evolution  proceeds  after  this  manner.  For  since 
it  is  proved  that  no  germ,  animal  or  vegetal,  contains  the 
slightest  rudiment,  trace,  or  indication  of  the  future  organism 
— since  the  microscope  has  shown  us  that  the  first  process  set 
up  in  every  fertilized  germ  is  a process  of  repeated  spontaneous 
fissions,  ending  in  the  production  of  a mass  of  cells,  not  one 
of  which  exhibits  any  special  character;  there  seems  no  alter- 
native but  to  conclude  that  the  partial  organization  at  any 
moment  subsisting  in  a growing  embryo,  is  transformed  by  the 
agencies  acting  on  it  into  the  succeeding  phase  of  organization, 
and  this  into  the  next,  until,  through  ever-increasing  com- 
plexities, the  ultimate  form  is  reached.  Thus,  though  the 
subtlety  of  the  forces  and  the  slowness  of  the  metamorphosis, 
prevent  us  from  directly  tracing  the  genesis  of  many  changes 
by  one  cause,,  throughout  the  successive  stages  which  every 
embryo  passes  through;  yet,  indirectly,  we  have  strong  evidence 
that  this  is  a source  of  increasing  heterogeneity.  We  have 
marked  how  multitudinous  are  the  effects  which  a single  agency 
may  generate  in  an  adult  organism;  that  a like  multiplication 
of  effects  must  happen  in  the  unfolding  organism  we  have 
inferred  from  sundry  illustrative  cases;  further,  it  has  been 
pointed  out  that  the  ability  which  like  germs  have  to  originate 
unlike  forms,  implies  that  the  successive  transformations  result 
from  the  new  changes  superinduced,  on  previous  changes;  and 
we  have'  seen  that  structureless  as  every  germ  originally  is,  the 
development  of  an  organism  out  of  it  is  otherwise  incompre- 
hensible. Doubtless  we  are  still  in  the  dark  respecting  those 
mysterious  properties  which  make  the  germ,  when  subject  to 
fit  influences,  undergo  the  special  changes  beginning  this  series 
of  transformations.  All  here  contended  is,  that  given  a germ 
possessing  these  mysterious  properties,  the  evolution  of  an 
organism  from  it  depends,  in  part,  on  that  multiplication  of 
effects  which  we  have  seen  to  be  a cause  of  evolution  in 
general,  so  far  as  we  have  yet  traced  it. 

When,  leaving  the  development  of  single  plants  and  animals. 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


885 


we  pass  to  that  of  the  Earth’s  flora  and  fauna  the  course  of 
the  argument  again  becomes  clear  and  simple.  Though,  as 
before  admitted,  the  fragmentary  facts  Paleontology  has  accu- 
mulated, do  not  clearly  warrant  us  in  saying  that,  in  the  lapse 
of  geologic  time,  there  have  been  evolved  more  heterogeneous 
organisms,  and  more  heterogeneous  assemblages  of  organisms; 
yet  we  shall  now  see  that  there  must  ever  have  been  a tendency 
toward  these  results.  We  shall  find  that  the  production  of 
many  effects  by  one  cause,  which,  as  already  shown,  has  been 
all  along  increasing  the  physical  heterogeneity  of  the  Earth, 
has  further  necessitated  an  increasing  heterogeneity  in  its  flora 
and  fauna,  individually  and  collectively.  An  illustration  will 
make  this  clear.  Suppose  that  by  a series  of  upheavals,  occur- 
ring, as  they  are  now  known  to  do,  at  long  intervals,  the  East 
Indian  Archipelago  were  to  be  raised  into  a continent,  and  a 
chain  of  mountains  formed  along  the  axis  of  elevation.  By  the 
first  of  these  upheavals,  the  plants  and  animals  inhabiting 
Borneo,  Sumatra,  New  Guinea,  and  the  rest,  would  be  subjected 
to  slightly-modified  sets  of  conditions.  The  climate  in  general 
would  be  altered  in  temperature,  in  humidity,  and  in  its 
periodical  variations;  while  the  local  differences  would  be  multi- 
plied. These  modifications  would  affect,  perhaps  inappreciably, 
the  entire  flora  and  fauna  of  the  region.  The  change  of 
level  would  produce  additional  modifications;  varying  in  dif- 
ferent species,  and  also  in  different  members  of  the  same 
species,  according  to  their  distance  from  the  axis  of  elevation. 
Plants,  growing  only  on  the  sea-shore  in  special  localities, 
might  become  extinct.  Others,  living  only  in  swamps  of  a 
certain  humidity,  would,  if  they  survived  at  all,  probably 
undergo  visible  changes  of  appearance.  While  more  marked 
alterations  would  occur  in  some  of  the  plants  that  spread  over 
the  lands  newly  raised  above  the  sea.  The  animals  and  insects 
living  on  these  modified  plants,  would  themselves  be  in  some 
degree  modified  by  change  of  food,  as  well  as  by  change  of 
climate;  and  the  modification  would  be  more  marked  where, 
from  the  dwindling  or  disappearance  of  one  kind  of  plant,  an 
allied  kind  was  eaten.  In  the  lapse  of  the  many  generations 
arising  before  the  next  upheaval,  the  sensible  or  insensible 
alterations  thus  produced  in  each  species,  would  become  organ- 
ized — in  all  the  races  that  survived  there  would  be  a more 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


38G 

or  less  complete  adaptation  to  the  new  conditions.  The  next 
upheaval  would  superinduce  further  organic  changes,  implying 
wider  divergences  from  the  primary  forms,  and  so  repeatedly. 
Now  however  let  it  be  observed  that  this  revolution  would  not 
be  a substitution  of  a thousand  modified  species  for  the  thou- 
sand original  species;  but  in  place  of  the  thousand  original 
species  there  would  arise  several  thousand  species,  or  varieties, 
or  changed  forms.  Each  species  being  distributed  over  an 
area  of  some  extent,  and  tending  continually  to  colonize  the  new 
area  exposed,  its  different  members  would  be  subject  to  differ- 
ent sets  of  changes.  Plants  and  animals  migrating  toward  the 
equator  would  not  be  affected  in  the  same  way  with  others 
migrating  from  it.  Those  which  spread  toward  the  new  shores 
would  undergo  changes  unlike  the  changes  undergone  by  those 
which  spread  into  the  mountains.  Thus,  each  original  race 
of  organisms  would  become  the  root  from  which  diverged  sev- 
eral races,  differing  more  or  less  from  it  and  from  each  omet , 
and  while  some  of  these  might  subsequently  disappear,  probably 
more  than  one  would  survive  in  the  next  geologic  period:  the 
very  dispersion  itself  increasing  the  chances  of  survival.  Not 
only  would  there  be  certain  modifications  thus  caused  by  changes 
of  physical  conditions  and  food;  but  also  in  some  cases  other 
modifications  caused  by  changes  of  habit.  The  fauna  of  each 
island,  peopling,  step  by  step,  the  newly-raised  tracts,  would 
eventually  come  in  contact  with  the  faunas  of  other  islands; 
and  some  members  of  these  other  faunas  would  be  unlike  any 
creatures  before  seen.  Herbivores,  meeting  with  new  beasts 
of  prey,  would,  in  some  cases,  be  led  into  modes  of  defence  or 
escape  differing  from  those  previously  used;  and  simultaneously 
the  beasts  of  prey  would  modify  their  modes  of  pursuit  and 
attack.  We  know  that  when  circumstances  demand  it,  such 
changes  of  habit  do  take  place  in  animals;  and  we  know  that  if 
the  new  habits  become  the  dominant  ones,  they  must  eventually 
in  some  degree  alter  the  organization.  Observe  now,  however, 
a further  consequence.  There  must  arise  not  simply  a ten- 
dency toward  the  differentiation  of  each  race  of  organisms 
into  several  races ; but  also  a tendency  to  the  occasional  pro- 
duction of  a somewhat  higher  organism.  Taken  in  the  mass, 
these  divergent  varieties,  which  have  been  caused  by  fresh 
physical  conditions  and  habits  of  life,  will  exhibit  alterations 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


387 


quite  indefinite  in  kind  and  degree;  and  alterations  that  do 
not  necessarily  constitute  an  advance.  Probably  in  most  cases 
tlie  modified  type  will  be  not  appreciably  more  heterogeneous 
than  the  original  one.  But  it  must  now  and  then  occur,  that 
some  division  of  a species,  falling  into  circumstances  which 
give  it  rather  more  complex  experiences,  and  demand  actions 
somewhat  more  involved,  will  have  certain  of  its  organs  further 
differentiated  in  proportionately  small  degrees  — will  become 
slightly  more  heterogeneous.  Hence,  there  will  from  time  to 
time  arise  and  increased  heterogeneity  both  of  the  Earth’s  flora 
and  fauna,  and  of  individual  races  included  in  them.  Omitting 
detailed  explanations,  and  allowing  for  the  qualifications  which 
cannot  here  be  specified,  it  is  sufficiently  clear  that  geological 
mutations  have  all  along  tended  to  complicate  the  forms  of 
life,  whether  regarded  separately  or  collectively.  That  multi- 
plication of  effects  which  has  been  a part-cause  of  the  transfor- 
mation of  the  Earth’s  crust  from  the  simple  into  the  complex, 
has  simultaneously  led  to  a parallel  transformation  of  the  Life 
upon  its  surface.1 

The  deduction  here  drawn  from  the  established  truths  of 
geology  and  the  general  laws  of  life,  gains  immensely  in 
weight  on  finding  it  to  be  in  harmony  with  an  induction 
drawn  from  direct  experience.  Just  that  divergence  of  many 
races  from  one  race,  which  we  inferred  must  have  been  con- 
tinually occurring  during  geologic  time,  we  know  to  have 
occurred  during  the  prehistoric  and  historic  periods,  in  man 
and  domestic  animals.  And  just  that  multiplication  of  effects 
which  we  concluded  must  have  been  instrumental  to  the  first. 


1 Had  this  paragraph,  which  was  first  published  in  the  “ Westminster 
Review,”  been  written  after  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Darwin’s  work  on 
“ The  Origin  of  Species,”  it  would  doubtless  have  been  otherwise  ex- 
pressed. Reference  would  have  been  made  to  the  process  of  “ natural 
selection,”  as  greatly  facilitating  the  differentiations  described.  As  it  is, 
however,  I prefer  to  let  the  passage  stand  in  its  original  shape : partly 
because  it  seems  to  me  that  these  successive  changes  of  conditions  would 
produce  divergent  varieties,  or  species,  apart  from  tlie  influence  of 
“natural  selection”  (though  in  less  numerous  ways  as  well  as  less 
rapidly)  ; and  partly  because  I conceive  that  in  the  absence  of  these 
successive  changes  of  conditions,  “ natural  selection  ” would  effect  com- 
paratively little.  Let  me  add  that  though  these  positions  are  not 
enunciated  in  “ The  Origin  of  Species,”  yet  a common  friend  gives  me 
reason  to  think  that  Mr.  Darwin  would  coincide  in  them  ; if  he  did  not 
indeed  consider  them  as  tacitly  implied  in  his  work. 


ss 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


we  see  lias  in  a great  measure  wrought  the  last.  Single  causes, 
as  famine,  pressure  of  population,  war,  have  periodically  led 
to  further  dispersions  of  mankind  and  of  dependent  creatures: 
each  such  dispersion  initiating  new  modifications,  new  varieties 
of  type.  Whether  all  the  human  races  be  or  be  not  derived 
from  one  stock,  philology  makes  it  clear  that  whole  groups 
of  races,  now  easily  distinguishable  from  each  other,  were  origi- 
nally one  race  — that  the  diffusion  of  one  race  into  different 
climates  and  conditions  of  existence  has  produced  many  altered 
forms  of  it.  Similarly  with  domestic  animals.  Though  in 
some  cases  (as  that  of  dogs)  community  of  origin  will  perhaps 
be  disputed,  yet  in  other  cases  (as  that  of  the  sheep  or  the 
cattle  of  our  own  country)  it  will  not  be  questioned  that  local 
differences  of  climate,  food,  and  treatment,  have  transformed 
one  original  breed  into  numerous  breeds,  now  become  so  far 
distant  as  to  produce  unstable  hybrids.  Moreover,  through  the 
complication  of  effects  flowing  from  single  causes,  we  here  find, 
what  we  before  inferred,  not  only  an  increase  of  general  hetero- 
geneity, but  also  of  special  heterogeneity.  While  of  the  diver- 
gent divisions  and  subdivisions  of  the  human  race,  many  have 
undergone  changes  not  constituting  an  advance;  others  have 
become  decidedly  more  heterogeneous.  The  civilized  European 
departs  more  widely  from  the  vertebrate  archetype  than  does 
the  savage. 

§ 160.  A sensation  does  not  expend  itself  in  arousing  some 
single  state  of  consciousness ; but  the  state  of  consciousness 
aroused  is  made  up  of  various  represented  sensations  connected 
by  co-existence,  or  sequence  with  the  presented  sensation.  And 
that,  in  proportion  as  the  grade  of  intelligence  is  high,  the 
number  of  ideas  suggested  is  great,  may  be  readily  inferred. 
Let,  us,  however,  look  at  the  proof  that  here,  too,  each  change 
is  the  parent  of  many  changes;  and  that  the -multiplication 
increases  in  proportion  as  the  area  affected  is  complex. 

Were  some  hitherto  unknown  bird,  driven  say  by  stress  of 
weather  from  the  remote  north,  to  make  its  appearance  on 
our  shores,  it  would  excite  no  speculation  in  the  sheep  or 
cattle  amid  which  it  alighted:  a perception  of  it  as  a creature 
like  those  constantly  flying  about,  would  be  the  sole  interrup- 
tion of  that  dull  current  of  consciousness  which  accompanies 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


389 


grazing  and  rumination.  The  cow-herd,  by  whom  we  may 
suppose  the  exhausted  bird  to  be  presently  caught,  would  prob- 
ably gaze  at  it  with  some  slight  curiosity,  as  being  unlike  any 
he  had  before  seen  — would  note  its  most  conspicuous  mark- 
ings, and  vaguely  ponder  on  the  questions,  where  it  came  from, 
and  how  it  came.  The  village  bird-stuffer  would  have  suggested 
to  him  by  the  sight  of  it  sundry  forms  to  which  it  bore  a little 
resemblance;  would  receive  from  it  more  numerous  and  more 
specific  impressions  respecting  structure  and  plumage;  would 
be  reminded  of  various  instances  of  birds  brought  by  storms 
from  foreign  parts  — would  tell  who  found  them,  who  stuffed 
them,  who  bought  them.  Supposing  the  unknown  bird  taken 
to  a naturalist  of  the  old  school,  interested  only  in  externals 
(one  of  those  described  by  the  late  Edward  Forbes,  as  exam- 
ining animals  as  though  they  were  merely  skins  filled  with 
straw),  it  would  excite  in  him  a more  involved  series  of  mental 
changes : there  would  be  an  elaborate  examination  of  the 
feathers,  a noting  of  all  their  technical  distinctions,  with  a 
reduction  of  these  perceptions  to  certain  equivalent  written 
symbols;  reasons  for  referring  the  new  form  to  a particular 
family,  order,  and  genus  would  be  sought  out  and  written 
down;  communications  with  the  secretary  of  some  society,  or 
editor  of  some  journal,  would  follow;  and  probably  there  would 
be  not  a few  thoughts  about  the  addition  of  the  ii  to  the  de- 
scribed name,  to  form  the  name  of  the  species.  Lastly,  in 
the  mind  of  a comparative  anatomist,  such  a new  species,  should 
it  happen  to  have  any  marked  internal  peculiarity,  might  pro- 
duce additional  sets  of  changes  — might  very  possibly  suggest 
modified  views  respecting  the  relationships  of  the  division  to 
which  it  belonged;  or,  perhaps,  alter  his  conceptions  of  the 
homologies  and  developments  of  certain  organs;  and  the  con- 
clusions drawn  might  not  improbably  enter  as  elements  into 
still  wider  inquiries  concerning  the  origin  of  organic  forms. 

From  ideas  let  us  turn  to  emotions.  In  a young  child,  a 
father’s  anger  produces  little  else  than  vague  fear  — a disagree- 
able sense  of  impending  evil,  taking  various  shapes  of  physical 
suffering  or  deprivation  of  pleasures.  In  elder  children,  the 
same  harsh  words  will  arouse  additional  feelings:  sometimes 
a sense  of  shame,  of  penitence,  or  of  sorrow  for  having  offended ; 
at  other  times,  a sense  of  injustice,  and  a consequent  anger. 


300 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


In  the  wife,  yet  a further  range  of  feelings  may  come  into 
existence  — perhaps  wounded  affection,  perhaps  self-pity  for 
ill-usage,  perhaps  contempt  for  groundless  irritability,  perhaps 
sympathy  for  some  suffering  which  the  irritability  indicates, 
perhaps  anxiety  about  an  unknown  misfortune  which  she  thinks 
has  produced  it.  Nor  are  we  without  evidence  that  among 
adults,  the  like  differences  of  development  are  accompanied  by 
like  differences  in  the  number  of  emotions  that  are  aroused, 
in  combination  or  rapid  succession  — the  lower  natures  being 
characterized  by  that  impulsiveness  which  results  from  the 
uncontrolled  action  of  a few  feelings;  and  the  higher  natures 
being  characterized  by  the  simultaneous  action  of  many  se- 
condary feelings,  modifying  those  first  awakened. 

Possibly  it  will  be  objected  that  the  illustrations  here  given 
are  drawn  from  the  functional  changes  of  the  nervous  system, 
not  from  its  structural  changes;  and  that  what  is  proved 
among  the  first,  does  not  necessarily  hold  among  the  last. 
This  must  be  admitted.  Those,  however,  who  recognize  the 
truth  that  the  structural  changes  are  the  slowly  accumulated 
results  of  the  functional  changes,  will  readily  draw  the  corollary, 
that  a part-cause  of  the  evolution  of  the  nervous  system,  as 
of  other  evolution,  is  this  multiplication  of  effects  which  becomes 
ever  greater  as  the  development  becomes  higher. 

§ 161.  If  the  advance  of  Man  toward  greater  heterogeneity 
in  both  body  and  mind,  is  in  part  traceable  to  the  production 
of  many  effects  by  one  cause,  still  more  clearly  may  the  advance 
of  Society  toward  greater  heterogeneity  be  so  explained.  Con- 
sider the  growth  of  an  industrial  organization.  When,  as  must 
occasionally  happen,  some  individual  of  a tribe  displays  unusual 
aptitude  for  making  an  article  of  general  use  (a  weapon,  for 
instance)  which  was  before  made  by  each  man  for  himself, 
there  arises  a tendency  toward  the  differentiation  of  that  indi- 
vidual into  a maker  of  weapons.  His  companions  (warriors 
and  hunters  all  of  them)  severally  wish  to  have  the  best 

weapons  that  can  be  made;  and  are  therefore  certain  to  offer 

strong  inducements  to  this  skilled  individual  to  make  weapons 
for  them.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  having  both  an  unusual 
faculty,  and  an  unusual  liking,  for  making  weapons  (the 

capacity  and  the  desire  for  any  occupation  being  commonly 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


391 


associated),  is  predisposed  to  fulfil  these  commissions  on  the 
offer  of  adequate  rewards : especially  as  his  love  of  distinction 
is  also  gratified.  This  first  specialization  of  function,  once 
commenced,  tends  ever  to  become  more  decided.  On  the  side 
of  the  weapon-maker,  continued  practice  gives  increased  skill 
— increased  superiority  to  his  products.  On  the  side  of  his 
clients,  cessation  of  practice  entails  decreased  skill.  Thus  the 
influences  that  determine  this  division  of  labor  grow  stronger 
in  both  ways:  this  social  movement  tends  ever  to  become  more 
decided  in  the  direction  in  which  it  was  first  set  up  ; and  the 
incipient  heterogeneity  is,  on  the  average  of  cases,  likely  to 
become  permanent  for  that  generation,  if  no  longer.  Such  a 
process,  besides  differentiating  the  social  mass  into  two  parts, 
the  one  monopolizing,  or  almost  monopolizing,  the  performance 
of  a certain  function,  and  the  other  having  lost  the  habit,  and 
in  some  measure  the  jiower,  of  performing  that  function,  has 
a tendency  to  initiate  other  differentiations.  The  advance  de- 
scribed implies  the  introduction  of  barter : the  maker  of 
weapons  has,  on  each  occasion,  to  be  paid  in  such  other  articles 
as  he  agrees  to  take  in  exchange.  Now  he  will  not  habitually 
take  in  exchange  one  kind  of  article,  but  many  kinds.  He 
does  not  want  mats  only,  or  skins,  or  fishing-gear;  but  he 
wants  all  these;  and  on  each  occasion  will  bargain  for  the 
particular  things  he  most  needs.  What'  follows  ? If  among 
the  members  of  the  tribe  there  exist  any  slight  differences  of 
skill  in  the  manufacture  of  these  various  things,  as  there  are 
almost  sure  to  do,  the  weapon-maker  will  take  from  each  one 
the  thing  which  that  one  excels  in  making:  he  will  exchange 
for  mats  with  him  whose  mats  are  superior,  and  will  bargain 
for  the  fishing-gear  of  whoever  has  the  best.  But  he  who  has 
bartered  away  his  mats  or  his  fishing-gear  must  make  other 
mats  or  fishing-gear  for  himself ; and  in  so  doing  must,  in 
some  degree,  further  develop  his  aptitude.  Thus  it  results  that 
the  small  specialties  of  faculty  possessed  by  various  members 
of  the  tribe  will  tend  to  grow  more  decided.  If  such  transac- 
tions are  from  time  to  time  repeated,  these  specializations  may 
become  appreciable.  And  whether  or  not  there  ensue  distinct 
differentiations  of  other  individuals  into  makers  of  particular 
articles,  it  is  clear  that  incipient  differentiations  take  place 
throughout  the  tribe:  the  one  original  cause  produces  not  only 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


392 

the  first  dual  effect,  but  a number  of  secondary  dual  effects, 
like  in  kind  but  minor  in  degree  This  process,  of  which  traces 
may  be  seen  among  groups  of  schoolboys,  cannot  well  produce 
a lasting  distribution  of  functions  in  an  unsettled  tribe;  but’ 
where  there  grows  up  a fixed  and  multiplying  community,  such 
differentiations  become  permanent,  and  increase  with  each  gen- 
eration. An  addition  to  the  number  of  citizens,  involving  a 
greater  demand  for  every  commodity,  intensifies  the  functional 
activity  of  each  specialized  person  or  class;  and  this  renders 
the  specialization  more  definite  where  it  already  exists,  and 
establishes  it  where  it  is  but  nascent.  By  increasing  the 
pressure  on  the  means  of  subsistence,  a larger  population  again 
augments  these  results;  since  every  individual  is  forced  more 
and  more  to  confine  himself  to  that  which  he  can  do  best,  and 
by  which  he  can  gain  most.  And  this  industrial  progress,  by 
aiding  future  production,  opens  the  way  for  further  growth 
of  population,  which  reacts  as  before.  Presently,  under  the 
same  stimuli,  new  occupations  arise.  Competing  workers  sever- 
ally aiming  to  produce  improved  articles,  occasionally  discover 
better  processes  or  better  materials.  In  weapons  and  cutting- 
tools,  the  substitution  of  bronze  for  stone  entails  on  him  who 
first  makes  it  a great  increase  of  demand  — so  great  an  increase 
that  he  presently  finds  all  his  time  occupied  in  making  the 
bronze  for  the  articles  he  sells,  and  is  obliged  to  depute  the 
fashioning  of  these  articles  to  others ; and  eventually  the  mak- 
ing of  bronze,  thus  gradually  differentiated  from  a pre-existing 
occupation,  becomes  an  occupation  by  itself.  But  now  mark 
the  ramified  changes  which  follow  this  change.  Bronze  soon 
replaces  stone,  not  only  in  the  articles  it  was  first  used  for,  but 
in  many  others ; and  so  affects  the  manufacture  of  them.  Fur- 
ther, it  affects  the  processes  which  such  improved  utensils  sub- 
serve, and  the  resulting  products  — modifies  buildings,  carvings, 
dress,  personal  decorations.  Yet  again,  it  sets  going  sundry 
manufactures  which  were  before  impossible,  from  lack  of  a 
material  fit  for  the  requisite  tools.  And  all  these  changes  react 
on  the  people  — increase  their  manipulative  skill,  their  intel- 
ligence, their  comfort  — refine  their  habits  and  tastes. 

It  is  out  of  the  question  here  to  follow  through  its  successive 
complications,  this  increasing  social  heterogeneity  that  results 
from  the  production  of  many  effects  by  one  cause.  But  leaving 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


393 


the  intermediate  phases  of  social  development,  let  us  take  an 
illustration  from  its  passing  phase.  To  trace  the  effects  of 
steam-power,  in  its  manifold  applications  to  mining,  naviga- 
tion, and  manufactures,  would  carry  us  into  unmanageable  de- 
tail. Let  us  confine  ourselves  to  the  latest  embodiment  of 
steam-power — -the  locomotive  engine.  This,  as  the  proximate 
cause  of  our  railway-system,  has  changed  the  face  of  the  country, 
the  course  of  trade,  and  the  habits  of  the  people.  Consider, 
first,  the  complicated  sets  of  changes  that  precede  the  making 
of  every  railway  — the  provisional  arrangements,  the  meetings, 
the  registration,  the  trial-section,  the  parliamentary  survey,  the 
lithographed  plans,  the  books  of  reference,  the  local  deposits 
and  notices,  the  application  to  Parliament,  the  passing  Standing- 
Orders  Committee,  the  first,  second,  and  third  readings : each 
of  which  brief  heads  indicates  a multiplicity  of  transactions,  and 
the  further  development  of  sundry  occupations  (as  those  of  engi- 
neers, surveyors,  lithographers,  parliamentary  agents,  share 
brokers)  and  the  creation  of  sundry  others  (as  those  of  traffic 
takers,  reference  takers).  Consider,  next,  the  yet  more  marked 
changes  implied  in  railway  construction  — the  cuttings,  em- 
bankings,  timnellings,  diversions  of  roads ; the  building  of 
bridges  and  stations;  the  laying  down  of  ballast,  sleepers,  and 
rails ; the  making  of  engines,  tenders,  carriages,  and  wagons : 
which  processes,  acting  upon  numerous  trades,  increase  the  im- 
portation of  timber,  the  quarrying  of  stone,  the  manufacture  of 
iron,  the  mining  of  coal,  the  burning  of  bricks ; institute  a variety 
of  special  manufactures  weekly  advertised  in  the  “ Bailway 
Times  ” ; and  call  into  being  some  new  classes  of  workers  — driv- 
ers, stokers,  cleaners,  plate-layers,  etc.,  etc.  Then  come  the 
changes,  more  numerous  and  involved  still,  which  railways  in 
action  produce  on  the  community  at  large.  The  organization 
of  every  business  is  more  or  less  modified;  ease  of  communica- 
tion makes  it  better  to  do  directly  what  was  before  done  by 
proxy ; agencies  are  established  where  previously  they  would  not 
have  paid;  goods  are  obtained  from  remote  wholesale  houses  in- 
stead of  near  retail  ones;  and  commodities  are  used  which  dis- 
tance once  rendered  inaccessible.  The  rapidity  and  small  cost 
of  carriage  tend  to  specialize  more  than  ever  the  industries  of 
different  districts  — to  confine  each  manufacture  to  the  parts  in 
which,  from  local  advantages,  it  can  be  best  carried  on.  Eco^ 


394 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


nomical  distribution  equalizes  prices,  and  also,  on  the  average, 
lowers  prices;  thus  bringing  divers  articles  within  the  means  of 
those  before  unable  to  buy  them,  and  so  increasing  their  com- 
forts and  improving  their  habits.  At  the  same  time  the  practice 
of  travelling  is  immensely  extended.  Classes  who  before  could 
not  afford  it,  take  annual  trips  to  the  sea;  visit  their  distant  rela- 
tions ; make  tours ; and  so  we  are  benefited  in  body,  feelings,  and 
intellect.  The  more  prompt  transmission  of  letters  and  of  news 
produces  further  changes  — makes  the  pulse  of  the  nation  faster. 
Yet  more,  there  arises  a wide  dissemination  of  cheap  litera- 
ture through  railway  book-stalls,  and  of  advertisements  in 
railway  carriages:  both  of  them  aiding  ulterior  progress.  And 
the  innumerable  changes  here  briefly  indicated  are  consequent 
on  the  invention  of  the  locomotive  engine.  The  social  organism 
has  been  rendered  more  heterogeneous,  in  virtue  of  the  many  new 
occupations  introduced,  and  the  many  old  ones  further  special- 
ized ; prices  in  all  places  have  been  altered;  each  trader  has,  more 
or  less,  modified  his  way  of  doing  business;  and  every  person 
has  been  affected  in  his  actions,  thoughts,  emotions. 

The  only  further  fact  demanding  notice,  is,  that  we  here 
see  more  clearly  than  ever,  that  in  proportion  as  the  area  over 
which  any  influence  extends,  becomes  heterogeneous,  the  results 
are  in  a yet  higher  degree  multiplied  in  number  and  kind. 
While  among  the  primitive  tribes  to  whom  it  was  first  known, 
caoutchouc  caused  but  few  changes,  among  ourselves  the  changes 
have  been  so  many  and  varied  that  the  history  of  them  occupies 
a volume.  Upon  the  small,  homogeneous  community  inhabit- 
ing one  of  the  Hebrides,  the  electric  telegraph  would  produce, 
were  it  used,  scarcely  any  results;  but  in  England  the  results  it 
produces  are  multitudinous. 

Space  permitting,  the  synthesis  might  here  be  pursued  in 
relation  to  all  the  subtler  products  of  social  life.  It  might  be 
shown  how,  in  Science,  an  advance  of  one  division  presently 
advances  other  divisions  — how  Astronomy  has  been  immensely 
forwarded  by  discoveries  in  Optics,  while  other  optical  dis- 
coveries have  initiated  Microscopic  Anatomy,  and  greatly  aided 
the  growth  of  Physiology  — how  Chemistry  has  indirectly  in- 
creased our  knowledge  of  Electricity,  Magnetism,  Biology, 
Geology  — how  Electricity  has  reacted  on  Chemistry  and  Mag- 
netism, developed  our  views  of  Light  and  Heat,  and  disclosed 


THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  EFFECTS 


395 


sundry  laws  of  nervous  action.  In  Literature  the  same  truth 
might  be  exhibited  in  the  still-multiplying  forms  of  periodical 
publications  that  have  descended  from  the  first  newspaper,  and 
which  have  severally  acted  and  reacted  on  other  forms  of  litera- 
ture and  on  each  other;  or  in  the  bias  given  by  each  book  of 
power  to  various  subsequent  books.  The  influence  which  a new 
school  of  Painting  (as  that  of  the  pre-Raphaelites)  exercises  on 
other  schools;  the  hints  which  all  kinds  of  pictorial  art  are 
deriving  from  Photography;  the  complex  results  of  new  critical 
doctrines;  might  severally  be  dwelt  on  as  displaying  the  like 
multiplication  of  effects.  But  it  would  needlessly  tax  the 
reader’s  patience  to  detail,  in  their  many  ramifications,  these 
various  changes;  here  become  so  involved  and  subtle  as  to  be 
followed  with  some  difficulty. 

§ 162.  After  the  argument  which  closed  the  last  chapter,  a 
parallel  one  seems  here  scarcely  required.  For  symmetry’s  sake, 
however,  it  will  he  proper  briefly  to  point  out  how  the  multiplica- 
tion of  effects,  like  the  instability  of  the  homogeneous,  is  a 
corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force. 

Things  which  we  call  different  are  things  which  react-  in  dif- 
ferent ways;  and  we  can  know  them  as  different  only  by  the 
differences  in  their  reactions.  When  we  distinguish  bodies  as 
hard  and  soft,  rough  and  smooth,  we  simply  mean  that  certain 
like  muscular  forces  expended  on  them  are  followed  by  unlike 
sets  of  sensations  — unlike  reactive  forces.  Objects  that  are 
classed  as  red,  blue,  yellow,  etc.,  are  objects  that  decompose 
light  in  strongly-contrasted  ways;  that  is,  we  know  contrasts  of 
color  as  contrasts  in  the  changes  produced  in  a uniform  incident 
force.  Manifestly,  any  two  things  which  do  not  work  unequal 
effects  on  consciousness,  either  by  unequally  opposing  our  own 
energies,  or  by  impressing  our  senses  with  unequally  modified 
forms  of  certain  external  energies,  cannot  be  distinguished  by 
us.  Hence  the  proposition  that  the  different  parts  of  any  whole- 
must  react  differently  on  a uniform  incident  force,  and  must  so 
reduce  it  to  a group  of  multiform  forces,  is  in  essence  a truism. 
A further  step  will  reduce  this  truism  to  its  lowest  terms. 

When,  from  unlikeness  between  the  effects  they  produce  on 
consciousness,  we  predicate  unlikeness  between  two  objects,  what 
is  our  warrant?  and  what  do  we  mean  by  the  unlikeness,  ob- 


396 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


jectively  considered?  Our  warrant  is  the  persistence  of  force. 
Some  kind  or  amount  of  change  has  been  wrought  in  us  by  the 
one,  which  has  not  been  wrought  by  the  other.  This  change  we 
ascribe  to  some  force  exercised  by  the  one  which  the  other  has 
not  exercised.  And  we  have  no  alternative  but  to  do  this,  or  to 
assert  that  the  change  had  no  antecedent;  which  is  to  deny  the 
persistence  of  force.  Whence  it  is  further  manifest  that  what 
we  regard  as  the  objective  unlikeness  is  the  presence  in  the  one 
of  some  force,  or  set  of  forces,  not  present  in  the  other  — some- 
thing in  the  kinds  or  amounts  or  directions  of  the  constituent 
forces  of  the  one,  which  those  of  the  other  do  not  parallel.  But 
now  if  things  or  parts  of  things  which  we  call  different,  are 
those  of  which  the  constituent  forces  differ  in  one  or  more  re- 
spects; what  must  happen  to  any  like  forces,  or  any  uniform 
force,  falling  on  them?  Such  like  forces,  or  parts  of  a uniform 
force,  must  be  differently  modified.  The  force  which  is  present 
in  the  one  and  not  in  the  other,  must  be  an  element  in  the  con- 
flict—must  produce  its  equivalent  reaction;  and  must  so  affect 
the  total  reaction.  To  say  otherwise  is  to  say  that  this  differen- 
tial force  will  produce  no  effect ; which  is  to  say  that  force  is  not 
persistent. 

I need  not  develop  this  corollary  further.  It  manifestly  fol- 
lows that  a uniform  force,  falling  on  a uniform  aggregate,  must 
undergo  dispersion ; that  falling  on  an  aggregate  made  up  of 
unlike  parts,  it  must  undergo  dispersion  from  each  part,  as  well 
as  qualitative  differentiations ; that  in  proportion  as  the  parts  are 
unlike,  these  qualitative  differentiations  must  be  marked;  that 
in  proportion  to  the  number  of  the  parts,  they  must  be  numer- 
ous ; that  the  secondary  forces  so  produced,  must  undergo  further 
transformations  while  working  equivalent  transformations  in 
the  parts  that  change  them;  and  similarly  with  the  forces  they 
generate.  Thus  the  conclusions  that  a part-cause  of  Evolution 
is  the  multiplication  of  effects;  and  that  this  increases  in  geo- 
metrical progression  as  the  heterogeneity  becomes  greater;  are 
not  only  to  be  established  inductively,  but  are  deducible  from 
the  deepest  of  all  truths. 


SEGREGATION 


397 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

SEGREGATION. 

§ 163.  The  general  interpretation  of  Evolution  is  far  from 
being  completed  in  the  preceding  chapters.  We  must  contem- 
plate its  changes  under  yet  another  aspect,  before  we  can  form 
a definite  conception  of  the  process  constituted  by  them.  Though 
the  laws  already  set  forth,  furnish  a key  to  the  rearrangement 
of  parts  which  Evolution  exhibits,  in  so  far  as  it  is  an  advance 
from  the  uniform  to  the  multiform ; they  furnish  no  key  to  this 
rearrangement  in  so  far  as  it  is  an  advance  from  the  indefinite 
to  the  definite.  On  studying  the  actions  and  reactions  every- 
where going  on,  we  have  found  it  to  follow  inevitably  from  a 
certain  primordial  truth,  that  the  homogeneous  must  lapse  into 
the  heterogeneous,  and  that  the  heterogeneous  must  become  more 
heterogeneous;  but  we  have  not  discovered  why  the  differently- 
affected  parts  of  any  simple  whole  become  clearly  marked  off 
from  each  other,  at  the  same  time  that  they  become  unlike. 
Thus  far  no  reason  has  been  assigned  why  there  should  not  ordi- 
narily arise  a vague  chaotic  heterogeneity,  in  place  of  that  order- 
ly heterogeneity  displayed  in  Evolution.  It  still  remains  to  find 
out  the  cause  of  that  local  integration  which  accompanies  local 
differentiation  — that  gradually-completed  segregation  of  like 
units  into  a group,  distinctly  separated  from  neighboring  groups 
which  are  severally  made  up  of  other  kinds  of  units.  The  ra- 
tionale will  be  conveniently  introduced  by  a few  instances  in 
which  we  may  watch  this  segregative  process  taking  place. 

When,  toward  the  end  of  September,  the  trees  are  gaining 
their  autumn  colors,  and  we  are  hoping  shortly  to  see  a further 
change  increasing  still  more  the  beauty  of  the  landscape,  we  are 
not  uncommonly  disappointed  by  the  occurrence  of  an  equinoc- 
tial gale.  Out  of  the  mixed  mass  of  foliage  on  each  branch,  the 
strong  current  of  air  carries  away  the  decaying  and  brightly- 


398 


FIRST  PRINCirLES 


tinted  leaves,  but  fails  to  detach  those  which  are  still  green. 
And  while  these  last,  frayed  and  seared  by  long-continued  beat- 
ings against  each  other,  and  the  twigs  around  them,  give  a 
sombre  color  to  the  woods,  the  red  and  yellow  and  orange  leaves 
are  collected  together  in  ditches  and  behind  walls  and  in  corners 
where  eddies  allow  them  to  settle.  That  is  to  say,  by  the  action 
of  that  uniform  force  which  the  wind  exerts  on  both  kinds,  the 
dying  leaves  are  picked  out  from  among  their  still  living  com- 
panions and  gathered  in  places  by  themselves.  Again,  the  sep- 
aration of  particles  of  different  sizes,  as  dust  and  sand  from 
pebbles,  may  be  similarly  effected;  as  we  see  on  every  road  in 
March.  And  from  the  days  of  Homer  downward,  the  power  of 
currents  of  air,  natural  and  artificial,  to  part  from  one  another 
units  of  unlike  specific  gravities,  has  been  habitually  utilized  in 
the  winnowing  of  chaff  from  wheat.  In  every  river  we  see  how 
the  mixed  materials  carried  down  are  separately  deposited  — 
how  in  rapids  the  bottom  gives  rest  to  nothing  but  boulders  and 
pebbles ; how  where  the  current  is  not  so  strong,  sand  is  let  fall ; 
and  how,  in  still  places,  there  is  a sediment  of  mud.  This 
selective  action  of  moving  water,  is  commonly  applied  in  the 
arts  to  obtain  masses  of  particles  of  different  degrees  of  fine- 
ness. Emery,  for  example,  after  being  ground,  is  carried  by  a 
slow  current  through  successive  compartments;  in  the  first  of 
which  the  largest  grains  subside;  in  the  second  of  which  the 
grains  that  reach  the  bottom  before  the  water  has  escaped,  are 
somewhat  smaller;  in  the  third  smaller  still;  until  in  the  last 
there  are  deposited  only  those  finest  particles  which  fall  so 
slowly  through  the  water  that  they  have  not  previously  been 
able  to  reach  the  bottom.  And  in  a way  that  is  different  though 
equally  significant,  this  segregative  effect  of  water  in  motion,  is 
exemplified  in  the  carrying  away  of  soluble  from  insoluble  mat- 
ters — an  application  of  it  hourly  made  in  every  laboratory. 
The  effects  of  the  uniform  forces  which  aerial  and  aqueous  cur- 
rents exercise,  are  paralleled  by  those  of  uniform  forces  of 
other  orders.  Electric  attraction  will  separate  small  bodies  from 
large,  or  light  bodies  from  heavy.  By  magnetism,  grains  of 
iron  may  be  selected  from  among  other  grains;  as  by  the  Shef- 
field grinder,  whose  magnetized  gauze  mask  filters  out  the  steel- 
dust  which  his  wheel  gives  off,  from  the  stone-dust  that  accom- 
panies it.  And  how  the  affinity  of  any  agent  acting  differently 


SEGREGATION 


399 


on  the  components  of  a given  body,  enables  ns  to  take  away  some 
component  and  leave  the  rest  behind,  is  shown  in  almost  every 
chemical  experiment. 

What  now  is  the  general  truth  here  variously  presented? 
How  are  these  several  facts  and  countless  similar  ones  to  be  ex- 
pressed in  terms  that  embraces  them  all  ? In  each  case  we  see  in 
action  a force  which  may  be  regarded  as  simple  or  uniform  ■ — - 
fluid  motion  in  a certain  direction  at  a certain  velocity ; electric 
or  magnetic  attraction  of  a given  amount;  chemical  affinity  of  a 
particular  kind : or  rather,  in  strictness,  the  acting  force  is  com- 
pounded of  one  of  these  and  certain  other  uniform  forces,  as 
gravitation,  etc.  In  each  case  we  have  an  aggregate  made  up 
of  unlike  units  — either  atoms  of  different  substances  combined 
or  intimately  mingled,  or  fragments  of  the  same  substance  of 
different  sizes,  or  other  constituent  parts  that  are  unlike  in  their 
specific  gravities,  shapes,  or  other  attributes.  And  in  each  case 
these  unlike  units,  or  groups  of  units,  of  which  the  aggregate 
consists,  are,  under  the  influence  of  some  resultant  force  acting 
indiscriminately  on  them  all,  separated  from  each  other  — 
segregated  into  minor  aggregates,  each  consisting  of  units  that 
are  severally  like  each  other  and  unlike  those  of  the  other  minor 
aggregates.  Such  being  the  common  aspect  of  these  changes,  let 
us  look  for  the  common  interpretation  of  them. 

In  the  chapter  on  “ The  Instability  of  the  Homogeneous,”  it 
was  shown  that  a uniform  force  falling  on  any  aggregate,  pro- 
duces unlike  modifications  in  its  different  parts  — turns  the 
uniform  into  the  multiform  and  the  multiform  into  the  more 
multiform.  The  transformation  thus  wrought,  consists  of  either 
insensible  or  sensible  changes  of  relative  position  among  the 
units,  or  of  both  — either  of  those  molecular  rearrangements 
which  we  call  chemical,  or  of  those  larger  transpositions  which 
are  distinguished  as  mechanical,  or  of  the  two  united.  Such 
portion  of  the  permanently  effective  force  as  reaches  each  dif- 
ferent part,  or  differently-conditioned  part,  may  be  expended  in 
modifying  the  mutual  relations  of  its  constituents ; or  it  may  be 
expended  in  moving  the  part  to  another  place;  or  it  may  be  ex- 
pended partially  in  the  first  and  partially  in  the  second.  Hence, 
so  much  of  the  permanently  effective  force  as  does  not  work  the 
one  kind  of  effect,  must  work  the  other  kind.  It  is  manifest 
that  if  of  the  permanently  effective  force  which  falls  on  some 


400 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


compound  unit  of  an  aggregate,  little  if  any  is  absorbed  in  re- 
arranging the  ultimate  components  of  such  compound  unit, 
much  or  the  whole,  must  show  itself  in  motion  of  such  com- 
pound unit  to  some  other  place  in  the  aggregate ; and  conversely, 
if  little  or  none  of  this  force  is  absorbed  in  generating  mechani- 
cal transposition,  much  or  the  whole  must  go  to  produce  mo- 
lecular alterations.  What  now  must  follow  from  this?  In  cases 
where  none  or  only  part  of  the  force  generates  chemical  redis- 
tributions, what  physical  redistributions  must  be  generated? 
Parts  that  are  similar  to  each  other  will  be  similarly  acted  on 
by  the  force ; and  will  similarly  react  on  it.  Parts  that  are  dis- 
similar will  be  dissimilarly  acted  on  by  the  force;  and  will  dis- 
similarly react  on  it.  Hence  the  permanently  effective  incident 
force,  when  wholly  or  partially  transformed  into  mechanical 
motion  of  the  units,  will  produce  like  motions  in  units  that  are 
alike,  and  unlike  motions  in  emits  that  are  unlike.  If  then,  in 
an  aggregate  containing  two  or  more  orders  of  mixed  units,  those 
of  the  same  order  will  be  moved  in  the  same  way,  and  in  a way 
that  differs  from  that  in  which  units  of  other  orders  are  moved, 
the  respective  orders  must  segregate.  A group  of  like  things  on 
which  are  impressed  motions  that  are  alike  in  amount  and  di- 
rection, must  be  transferred  as  a group  to  another  place,  and 
if  they  are  mingled  with  some  group  of  other  things,  on  which 
the  motions  impressed  are  like  each  other,  but  unlike  those  of 
the  first  group  in  amount  or  direction  or  both,  these  other  things 
must  be  transferred  as  a group  to  some  other  place  — the  mixed 
units  must  undergo  a simultaneous  selection  and  separation. 

In  further  elucidation  of  this  process,  it  will  be  well  here  to 
set  down  a few  instances  in  which  we  may  see  that,  other  things 
equal,  the  definiteness  of  the  separation  is  in  proportion  to  the 
definiteness  of  the  difference  between  the  units.  Take  a hand- 
ful of  any  pounded  substance,  containing  fragments  of  all  sizes ; 
and  let  it  fall  to  the  ground  while  a gentle  breeze  is  blowing. 
The  large  fragments  will  be  collected  together  on  the  ground 
almost  immediately  under  the  hand;  somewhat  smaller  frag- 
ments will  be  carried  a little  to  the  leeward ; still  smaller  ones  a 
little  further ; and  those  minute  particles  which  we  call  dust  will 
be  drifted  a long  way  before  they  reach  the  earth : that  is,  the 
integration  is  indefinite  where  the  difference  among  the  frag- 
ments is  indefinite,  though  the  divergence  is  greatest  where  the 


SEGREGATION 


401 


difference  is  greatest.  If,  again,  the  handful  be  made  up  of 
quite  distinct  orders  of  units  — as  pebbles,  coarse  sand,  and 
dust  — these  will,  under  like  conditions,  be  segregated  with 
comparative  definiteness:  the  pebbles  will  drop  almost  verti- 
cally ; the  sand  will  fall  in  an  inclined  direction,  and  deposit  it- 
self within  a tolerably  circumscribed  space  beyond  the  pebbles; 
while  the  dust  will  be  blown  almost  horizontally  to  a great  dis- 
tance. A case  in  which  another  kind  of  force  comes  into  play 
will  still  better  illustrate  this  truth.  Through  a mixed  aggre- 
gate of  soluble  and  insoluble  substances,  let  water  slowly  per- 
colate. There  will  in  the  first  place  be  a distinct  parting  of  the 
substances  that  are  the  most  widely  contrasted  in  their  relations 
to  the  acting  forces:  the  soluble  will  be  carried  away;  the  in- 
soluble will  remain  behind.  Further,  some  separation,  though 
a less  definite  one,  will  be  effected  among  the  soluble  substances ; 
since  the  first  part  of  the  current  will  remove  the  most  soluble 
substances  in  the  largest  amounts,  and  after  these  have  been  all 
dissolved,  the  current  will  still  continue  to  bring  out  the  re- 
maining less  soluble  substances.  Even  the  undissolved  matters 
will  have  simultaneously  undergone  a certain  segregation;  for 
the  percolating  fluid  will  carry  down  the  minute  fragments 
from  among  the  large  ones,  and  will  deposit  those  of  small 
specific  gravity  in  one  place,  and  those  of  great  specific  gravity 
in  another.  To  complete  the  elucidation  we  must  glance  at 
the  obverse  fact;  namely,  that  mixed  units  which  differ  but 
slightly,  are  moved  in  but  slightly-different  ways  by  incident 
forces,  and  can  therefore  be  separated  only  by  such  adjustments 
of  the  incident  forces  as  allow  slight  differences  to  become  ap- 
preciable factors  in  the  result.  This  truth  is  made  manifest  by 
antithesis  in  the  instances  just  given;  but  it  may  be  made  much 
more  manifest  by  a few  such  instances  as  those  which  chemical 
analysis  supplies  in  abundance.  The  parting  of  alcohol  from 
water  by  distillation  is  a good  one.  Here  we  have  atoms  con- 
sisting of  oxygen  and  hydrogen,  mingled  with  atoms  consisting 
of  oxygen,  hydrogen,  and  carbon.  The  two  orders  of  atoms 
have  a considerable  similarity  of  nature:  they  similarly  main- 
tain a fluid  form  at  ordinary  temperatures;  they  similarly  be- 
come gaseous  more  and  more  rapidly  as  the  temperature  is 
raised;  and  they  boil  at  points  not  very  far  apart.  How  this 
comparative  likeness  of  the  atoms  is  accompanied  by  difficulty  in 


402 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


segregating  them.  If  the  mixed  fluid  is  unduly  heated,  much 
water  distils  over  with  the  alcohol : it  is  only  within  a narrow 
range  of  temperature  that  the  one  set  of  atoms  are  driven  oft 
rather  than  the  others;  and  even  then  not  a few  of  the  others 
accompany  them.  The  most  interesting  and  instructive  ex- 
ample, however,  is  furnished  by  certain  phenomena  of  crystal- 
lization. When  several  salts  that  have  little  analogy  of  con- 
stitution are  dissolved  in  the  same  body  of  water,  they  are 
separated  without  much  trouble,  by  crystallization : their  respec- 
tive units  moved  toward  each  other,  as  physicists  suppose,  by 
polar  forces,  segregate  into  crystals  of  their  respective  kinds. 
The  crystals  of  each  salt  do,  indeed,  usually  contain  certain 
small  amounts  of  the  other  salts  present  in  the  solution  — espe- 
cially when  the  crystallization  has  been  rapid ; but  from  these 
other  salts  they  are  severally  freed  by  repeated  re-solutions  and 
crystallizations.  Mark  now,  however,  that  the  reverse  is  the  case 
when  the  salts  contained  in  the  same  body  of  water  are  chemically 
homologous.  The  nitrates  of  baryta  and  lead,  or  the  sulphates 
of  zinc,  soda,  and  magnesia,  unite  in  the  same  crystals ; nor  will 
they  crystallize  separately  if  these  crystals  be  dissolved  afresh, 
and  afresh  crystallized,  even  with  great  care.  On  seeking  the 
cause  of  this  anomaly,  chemists  found  that  such  salts  were 
isomorphous  — that  their  atoms,  though  not  chemically  iden- 
tical, were  identical  in  the  proportions  of  acid,  base,  and  water, 
composing  them,  and  in  their  crystalline  forms:  whence  it  was 
inferred  that  their  atoms  are  nearly  alike  in  structure.  Thus 
is  clearly  illustrated  the  truth,  that  units  of  unlike  kinds  are 
selected  out  and  separated  with  a readiness  proportionate  to  the 
degree  of  their  unlikeness.  In  the  first  case  we  see  that  being 
dissimilar  in  their  forms,  but  similar  in  so  far  as  they  are  soluble 
in  water  of  a certain  temperature,  the  atoms  segregate,  though 
imperfectly.  In  the  second  case  we  see  that  the  atoms,  having 
not  only  the  likeness  implied  by  solubility  in  the  same  men- 
struum, but  also  a great  likeness  of  structure,  do  not  segregate  — 
are  sorted  and  parted  from  each  other  only  under  quite  special 
conditions,  and  then  very  incompletely.  That  is,  the  incident 
force  of  mutual  polarity  impresses  unlike  motions  on  the  mixed 
units  in  proportion  as  they  are  unlike;  and  therefore,  in  pro- 
portion as  they  are  unlike,  tends  to  deposit  them  in  separate 
places. 


SEGREGATION 


403 


There  is  a converse  cause  of  segregation,  which  it  is  need- 
less here  to  treat  of  with  equal  fulness.  If  different  units  acted 
on  by  the  same  force  must  be  differently  moved;  so,  too,  must 
units  of  the  same  kind  be  differently  moved  by  different  forces. 
Supposing  some  group  of  units  forming  part  of  a homogeneous 
aggregate,  are  unitedly  exposed  to  a force  that  is  unlike  in 
amount  or  direction  to  the  force  acting  on  the  rest  of  the  aggre- 
gate; then  this  group  of  units  will  separate  from  the  rest,  pro- 
vided that,  of  the  force  so  acting  on  it,  there  remains  any  portion 
not  dissipated  in  molecular  vibrations,  nor  absorbed  in  pro- 
ducing molecular  rearrangements.  After  all  that  has  been  said 
above,  this  proposition  needs  no  defence. 

Before  ending  our  preliminary  exposition,  a complementary 
truth  must  be  specified;  namely,  that  mixed  forces  are  segre- 
gated by  the  reaction  of  uniform  matters,  just  as  mixed  matters 
are  segregated  by  the  action  of  uniform  forces.  Of  this  truth 
a complete  and  sufficient  illustration  is  furnished  by  the  dis- 
persion of  refracted  light.  A beam  of  light,  made  up  of  ethereal 
undulations  of  different  orders,  is  not  uniformly  deflected  by  a 
homogeneous  refracting  body;  but  the  different  orders  of  un- 
dulations it  contains  are  deflected  at  different  angles : the  result 
being  that  these  different  orders  of  undulations  are  separated 
and  integrated,  and  so  produce  what  we  know  as  the  colors  of 
the  spectrum.  A segregation  of  another  kind  occurs  when  rays 
of  light  traverse  an  obstructing  medium.  Those  rays  which 
consist  of  comparatively  short  undulations,  are  absorbed  before 
those  which  consist  of  comparatively  long  ones;  and  the  red 
rays,  which  consist  of  the  longest  undulations,  alone  penetrate 
when  the  obstruction  is  very  great.  How,  conversely,  there  is 
produced  a separation  of  like  forces  by  the  reaction  of  unlike 
matters,  is  also  made  manifest  by  the  phenomena  of  refraction : 
since  adjacent  and  parallel  beams  of  light,  falling  on,  and  pass- 
ing through,  unlike  substances,  are  made  to  diverge. 

§ 164.  On  the  assumption  of  their  nebular  origin,  stars  and 
planets  exemplify  that  cause  of  material  segregation  last  as- 
signed — the  action  of  unlike  forces  on  like  units. 

In  a preceding  chapter  (§  150)  we  saw  that  if  matter  ever 
existed  in  a diffused  form,  it  could  not  continue  uniformly  dis- 
tributed, but  must  break  up  into  masses.  It  was  shown  that  in 


404 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  absence  of  a perfect  balance  of  mutual  attractions  among 
atoms  dispersed  through  unlimited  space,  there  must  arise 
breaches  of  continuity  throughout  the  aggregate  formed  by 
them,  and  a concentration  of  it  toward  centres  of  dominant  at- 
traction. Where  any  such  breach  of  continuity  occurs,  and  the 
atoms  that  were  before  adjacent  separate  from  each  other;  they 
do  so  in  consequence  of  a difference  in  the  forces  to  which 
they  are  respectively  subject.  The  atoms  on  the  one  side  of  the 
breach  are  exposed  to  a certain  surplus  attraction  in  the  direc- 
tion in  which  they  begin  to  move;  and  those  on  the  other  to  a 
surplus  attraction  in  the  opposite  direction.  That  is,  the  ad- 
jacent groups  of  like  units  are  exposed  to  unlike  resultant 
forces;  and  accordingly  separate  and  integrate. 

The  formation  and  detachment  of  a nebulous  ring,  illus- 
trates the  same  general  principle.  To  conclude,  as  Laplace  did, 
that  the  equatorial  portion  of  a rotating  nebulous  spheroid,  will, 
during  concentration,  acquire  a centrifugal  force  sufficient  to 
prevent  it  from  following  the  rest  of  the  contracting  mass,  is  to 
conclude  that  such  portions  will  remain  behind  as  are  in  com- 
mon subject  to  a certain  differential  force.  The  line  of  division 
between  the  ring  and  the  spheroid,  must  be  a line  inside  of  which 
the  aggregative  force  is  greater  than  the  force  resisting  aggrega- 
tion; and  outside  of  which  the  force  resisting  aggregation  is 
greater  than  the  aggregative  force.  Hence  the  alleged  process 
conforms  to  the  law  that  among  like  units,  exposed  to  unlike 
forces,  the  similarly  conditioned  part  from  the  dissimilarly  con- 
ditioned. 

§ 165.  Those  geologic  changes,  usually  classed  as  aqueous, 
display  under  numerous  forms  the  segregation  of  unlike  units 
by  a uniform  incident  force.  On  sea-shores,  the  waves  are  ever 
sorting-out  and  separating  the  mixed  materials  against  which 
they  break.  From  each  mass  of  fallen  cliff,  the  rising  and 
ebbing  tide  carries  away  all  those  particles  which  are  so  small  as 
to  remain  long  suspended  in  the  water;  and,  at  some  distance 
from  shore,  deposits  them  in  the  shape  of  fine  sediment.  Large 
particles,  sinking  with  comparative  rapidity,  are  accumulated 
into  beds  of  sand  near  low  watermark.  The  coarse  grit  and 
small  pebbles  collect  together  on  the  incline  up  which  the  break- 
ers rush.  And  on  the  top  lie  the  larger  stones  and  boulders. 


SEGREGATION 


405 


Still  more  specific  segregations  may  occasionally  be  observed. 
Flat  pebbles,  produced  by  the  breaking  down  of  laminated  rock, 
are  sometimes  separately  collected  in  one  part  of  a shingle 
bank.  On  this  shore  the  deposit  is  wholly  of  mud ; on  that  it  is 
wholly  of  sand.  Here  we  find  a sheltered  cove  filled  with  small 
pebbles  almost  of  one  size;  and  there,  in  a curved  bay  one  end 
of  which  is  more  exposed  than  the  other,  we  see  a progressive 
increase  in  the  massiveness  of  the  stones  as  we  walk  from  the 
less  exposed  to  the  more  exposed  end.  Trace  the  history  of 
each  geologic  deposit,  and  we  are  quickly  led  down  to  the  fact, 
that  mixed  fragments  of  matter  differing  in  their  sizes  or 
weights,  are,  when  exposed  to  the  momentum  and  friction  of 
water,  joined  with  the  attraction  of  the  Earth,  selected  from  each 
other,  and  united  into  groups  of  comparatively  like  fragments. 
And  we  see  that,  other  things  equal,  the  separation  is  definite 
in  proportion  as  the  differences  of  the  units  are  marked.  After 
they  have  been  formed,  sedimentary  strata  exhibit  segregations  of 
another  kind.  The  flints  and  the  nodules  of  iron  pyrites  that 
are  found  in  chalk,  as  well  as  the  siliceous  concretions  which  oc- 
casionally occur  in  limestone,  can  be  interpreted  only  as  aggre- 
gations of  atoms  of  silex  or  sulphuret  of  iron,  originally  dif- 
fused almost  uniformly  through  the  deposit,  but  gradually  col- 
lected round  certain  centres,  notwithstanding  the  solid  or  semi- 
solid state  of  the  surrounding  matter.  What  is  called  bog  iron- 
ore  supplies  the  conditions  and  the  result  in  still  more  obvious 
correlation. 

Among  igneous  changes  we  do  not  find  so  many  examples  of 
the  process  described.  When  distinguishing  simple  and  com- 
pound evolution,  it  was  pointed  out  (§  102)  that  an  excessive 
quantity  of  contained  molecular  motion,  prevents  permanence  in 
those  secondary  redistributions  which  make  evolution  compound. 
Nevertheless,  geological  phenomena  of  this  order  are  not  bar- 
ren of  illustrations.  Where  the  mixed  matters  composing  the 
Earth’s  crust  have  been  raised  to  a very  high  temperature,  segre- 
gation habitually  takes  place  as  the  temperature  diminishes. 
Sundry  of  the  substances  that  escape  in  a gaseous  form  from 
volcanoes,  sublime  into  crystals  on  coming  against  cool  sur- 
faces ; and  solidifying  as  these  substances  do,  at  different  tem- 
peratures, they  are  deposited  at  different  parts  of  the  crevices 
through  which  they  are  emitted  together.  The  best  illustration. 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


400 

however,  is  furnished  by  the  changes  that  occur  during  the  slow 
cooling  of  igneous  rock.  When,  through  one  of  the  fractures 
from  time  to  time  made  in  the  solid  shell  which  forms  the 
Earth’s  crust,  a portion  of  the  molten  nucleus  is  extruded ; and 
when  this  is  cooled  with  comparative  rapidity,  through  free  radia- 
tion and  contact  with  cold  masses;  it  forms  a substance  known 
as  trap  or  basalt  — a substance  that  is  uniform  in  texture, 
though  made  up  of  various  ingredients.  But  when,  not  escaping 
through  the  superficial  strata,  such  a portion  of  the  molten 
nucleus  is  slowly  cooled,  it  becomes  what  we  know  as  granite: 
the  mingled  particles  of  quartz,  felspar,  and  mica,  being  kept 
for  a long  time  in  a fluid  and  semi-fluid  state  — a state  of  com- 
parative mobility  — undergo  those  changes  of  position  which 
the  forces  impressed  on  them  by  their  fellow  units  necessitate. 
Having  time  in  which  to  generate  the  requisite  motions  of  the 
atoms,  the  differential  forces  arising  from  mutual  polarity, 
segregate  the  quartz,  felspar,  and  mica,  into  crystals.  How 
completely  this  is  dependent  on  the  long-continued  agitation  of 
the  mixed  particles,  and  consequent  long-continued  mobility  by 
small  differential  forces,  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  in  granite 
dikes,  the  crystals  in  the  centre  of  the  mass,  where  the  fluidity 
or  semi-fluidity  continued  for  a longer  time,  are  much  larger  than 
those  at  the  sides,  where  contact  with  the  neighboring  rock 
caused  more  rapid  cooling  and  solidification. 

§ 166.  The  actions  going  on  throughout  an  organism  are 
so  involved  and  subtle,  that  we  cannot  expect  to  identify  the  par- 
ticular forces  by  which  particular  segregations  are  effected. 
Among  the  few  instances  admitting  of  tolerably  definite  inter- 
pretation, the  best  are  those  in  which  mechanical  pressures  and 
tensions  are  the  agencies  at  work.  We  shall  discover  several  on 
studying  the  bony  frame  of  the  higher  animals. 

The  vertebral  column  of  a man,  is  subject,  as  a whole,  to 
certain  general  strains  ■ — - the  weight  of  the  body,  together  with 
the  reactions  involved  by  all  considerable  muscular  efforts ; and 
in  conformity  with  this,  it  has  become  segregated  as  a whole. 
At  the  same  time,  being  exposed  to  different  forces  in  the  course 
of  those  lateral  bendings  which  the  movements  necessitate,  its 
parts  retain  a certain  separateness.  And  if  we  trace  up  the  de- 
velopment of  the  vertebral  column  from  its  primitive  form  of  a 


SEGREGATION 


407 


cartilaginous  cord  in  the  lowest  fishes,  we  see  that,  throughout, 
it  maintains  an  integration  corresj^onding  to  the  unity  of  the  in- 
cident forces,  joined  with  a division  into  segments  corresponding 
to  the  variety  of  the  incident  forces.  Each  segment,  considered 
apart,  exemplifies  the  truth  more  simply.  A vertebra  is  not  a 
single  bone,  but  consists  of  a central  mass  with  sundry  append- 
ages or  processes;  and  in  rudimentary  types  of  vertebras,  these 
appendages  are  quite  separate  from  the  central  mass,  and,  in- 
deed, exist  before  it  makes  its  appearance.  But  these  several 
independent  bones,  constituting  a primitive  spinal  segment,  are 
subject  to  a certain  aggregate  of  forces  which  agree  more  than 
they  differ:  as  the  fulcrum  to  a group  of  muscles  habitually 
acting  together,  they  perpetually  undergo  certain  reactions  in 
common.  And  accordingly,  we  see  that  in  the  course  of  de- 
velopment they  gradually  coalesce.  Still  clearer  is  the  illustra- 
tion furnished  by  spinal  segments  that  become  fused  together 
where  they  are  together  exposed  to  some  predominant  strain. 
The  sacrum  consists  of  a group  of  vertebrae  firmly  united.  In 
the  ostrich  and  its  cogeners  there  are  from  seventeen  to  twenty 
sacral  vertebrae;  and  besides  being  confluent  with  each  other 
these  are  confluent  with  the  iliac  bones,  which  run  on  each  side 
of  them.  If  now  we  assume  these  vertebrae  to  have  been  origi- 
nally separate,  as  they  still  are  in  the  embryo  bird;  and  if  we 
consider  the  mechanical  conditions  to  which  they  must  in  such 
case  have  been  exposed;  we  shall  see  that  their  union  results 
in  the  alleged  way.  For  through  these  verb' lira;  the  entire 
weight  of  the  body  is  transferred  to  the  legs:  the  legs  support 
the  pelvic  arch;  the  pelvic  arch  supports  the  sacrum;  and  to 
the  sacrum  is  articulated  the  rest  of  the  spine,  with  all  the 
limbs  and  organs  attached  to  it.  Hence,  if  separate,  the  sacral 
vertebra  must  be  held  firmly  together  by  strongly-contracted 
muscles;  and  must,  by  implication,  be  prevented  from  partak- 
ing in  those  lateral  movements  which  the  other  vertebrae 
undergo  — they  must  be  subject  to  a common  straiu,  while 
they  are  preserved  from  strains  which  would  affect  them  differ- 
ently; and  so  they  fulfil  the  conditions  under  which  segregation 
occurs.  But  the  cases  in  which  cause  and  effect  are  brought 
into  the  most  obvious  relation,  are  supplied  by  the  limbs.  The 
metacarpal  bones  (those  which  in  man  support  the  palm  of 
the  hand)  are  separate  from  each  other  in  the  majority  of 
/ 


408 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


mammalia:  the  separate  actions  of  the  toes  entailing  on  them 
slight  amounts  of  separate  movements.  This  is  not  so  however 
in  the  ox-tribe  and  the  horse-tribe.  In  the  ox-tribe,  only  the 
middle  metacarpals  (third  and  fourth)  are  developed;  and 
these,  attaining  massive  proportions,  coalesce  to  form  the  cannon 
bone.  In  the  horse-tribe,  the  segregation  is  what  we  may  dis- 
tinguish as  indirect:  the  second  and  fourth  metacarpals  are 
present  only  as  rudiments  united  to  the  sides  of  the  third, 
while  the  third  is  immensely  developed ; thus  forming  a cannon 
bone  which  differs  from  that  of  the  ox  in  being  a single  cylinder, 
instead  of  two  cylinders  fused  together.  The  metatarsus  in 
these  quadrupeds  exhibits  parallel  changes.  Now  each  of  these 
metamorphoses  occurs  where  the  different  bones  grouped  to- 
gether have  no  longer  any  different  functions,  but  retain  only 
a common  function.  The  feet  of  oxen  and  horses  are  used  solely 
for  locomotion  — are  not  put  like  those  of  unguiculate  mammals 
to  purposes  which  involve  some  relative  movements  of  the 
metacarpals.  Thus  there  directly  or  indirectly  results  a single 
mass  of  bone  where  the  incident  force  is  single.  And  for  the 
inference  that  these  facts  have  a causal  connection,  we  find 
confirmation  throughout  the  entire  class  of  birds;  in  the  wings 
and  legs  of  which,  like  segregations  are  found  under  like  con- 
ditions. While  this  sheet  is  passing  through  the  press,  a fact 
illustrating  this  general  truth  in  a yet  more  remarkable  man- 
ner, has  been  mentioned  to  me  by  Professor  Huxley;  who 
kindly  allows  me  to  make  use  of  it  while  still  unpublished  by 
him.  The  Glyptodon,  an  extinct  mammal  found  fossilized  in 
South  America,  has  long  been  known  as  a large  uncouth  crea- 
ture allied  to  the  Armadillo,  but  having  a massive  dermal  armor 
consisting  of  polygonal  plates  closely  fitted  together  so  as  to 
make  a vast  box,  inclosing  the  body  in  such  way  as  effectually 
to  prevent  it  from  being  bent,  laterally  or  vertically,  in  the 
slightest  degree.  This  bony  box,  which  must  have  weighed 
several  hundredweight,  was  supported  on  the  spinous  processes 
of  the  vertebrae,  and  on  the  adjacent  bones  of  the  pelvic  and 
thoracic  arches.  And  the  significant  fact  now  to  be  noted,  is, 
that  here,  where  the  trunk  vertebrae  were  together  exposed  to 
the  pressure  of  this  heavy  dermal  armor,  at  the  same  time  that, 
by  its  rigidity,  they  were  preserved  from  all  relative  movements, 


SEGREGATION 


409 


the  entire  series  of  them  were  united  into  one  solid,  continuous 
bone. 

The  formation  and  maintenance  of  a species,  considered  as 
an  assemblage  of  similar  organisms,  is  interpretable  in  an 
analogous  way.  We  have  already  seen  that  in  so  far  as  the 
members  of  a species  are  subject  to  different  sets  of  incident 
forces,  they  are  differentiated,  or  divided  into  varieties.  And 
here  it  remains  to  add  that  in  so  far  as  they  are  subject  to 
like  sets  of  incident  forces  they  are  segregated,  or  reduced  to, 
and  kept  in,  the  state  of  a uniform  aggregate.  For  by  the 
process  of  “ natural  selection,”  there  is  a continual  purification 
of  each  species  from  those  individuals  which  depart  from  the 
common  type  in  ways  that  unfit  them  for  the  conditions  of 
their  existence.  Consequently,  there  is  a continual  leaving 
behind  of  those  individuals  which  are  in  all  respects  fit  for 
the  conditions  of  their  existence;  and  are  therefore  very  nearly 
alike.  The  circumstances  to  which  any  species  is  exposed,  being, 
as  we  before  saw,  an  involved  combination  of  incident  forees; 
and  the  members  of  the  species  having  mixed  with  them  some 
that  differ  more  than  usual  from  the  average  structure  required 
for  meeting  these  forces;  it  results  that  these  forces  are  con- 
stantly separating  such  divergent  individuals  from  the  rest, 
and  so  preserving  the  uniformity  of  the  rest  — keeping  up  its 
integrity  as  a species.  Just  as  the  changing  autumn  leaves  are 
picked  out  by  the  wind  from  among  the  green  ones  around 
them,  or  just  as,  to  use  Professor  Huxley’s  simile,  the  smaller 
fragments  pass  through  the  sieve  while  the  larger  are  kept  back ; 
so,  the  uniform  incidence  of  external  forces  affects  the  members 
of  a group  of  organisms  similarly  in  proportion  as  they  are 
similar,  and  differently  in  proportion  as  they  are  different; 
and  thus  is  ever  segregating  the  like  by  parting  the  unlike  from 
them.  Whether  these  separated  members  are  killed  off,  as 
mostly  happens,  or  whether,  as  otherwise  happens,  they  survive 
and  multiply  into  a distinct  variety,  in  consequence  of  their 
fitness  to  certain  partially  unlike  conditions,  matters  not  to 
the  argument.  The  one  case  conforms  to  the  law,  that  the 
unlike  units  of  an  aggregate  are  sorted  into  their  kinds  and 
parted  when  uniformly  subject  to  the  same  incident  forces; 
and  the  other  to  the  converse  law,  that  the  like  units  of  an 
aggregate  are  parted  and  separately  grouped  when  subject  to 


410 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


different,  incident  forces.  And  on  consulting  Mr.  Darwin’s 
remarks  on  divergence  of  character,  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
segregations  thus  caused  tend  ever  to  become  more  definite. 

§ 167.  Mental  evolution  under  one  of  its  leading  aspects 
we  foimd  to  consist  in  the  formation  of  groups  of  like  objects 
and  like  relations  — a differentiation  of  the  various  things 
originally  confounded  together  in  one  assemblage,  and  an  in- 
tegration of  each  separate  order  of  things  into  a separate  group 
(§  153).  Here  it  remains  to  point  out  that  while  unlikeness 
in  the  incident  forces  is  the  cause  of  such  differentiations, 
likeness  in  the  incident  forces  is  the  cause  of  such  integrations. 
For  what  is  the  process  through  which  classifications  are  estab- 
lished? At  first,  in  common  with  the  uninitiated,  the  botanist 
recognizes  only  such  conventional  divisions  as  those  which  agri- 
culture has  established  — ■ distinguishes  a few  vegetables  and 
cereals,  and  groups  the  rest  together  into  the  one  miscellaneous 
aggregate  of  wild  plants.  How  do  these  wild  plants  become 
grouped  in  his  mind  into  orders,  genera,  and  species?  Each 
plant  he  examines  yields  him  a certain  complex  impression. 
Every  now  and  then  he  picks  up  a plant  like  one  before  seen; 
and  the  recognition  of  it  is  the  production  in  him  of  a like 
connected  group  of  sensations,  by  a like  connected  group  of 
attributes.  That  is  to  say,  there  is  produced  throughout  the 
nerves  concerned,  a combined  set  of  changes,  similar  to  a com- 
bined set  of  changes  before  produced.  Considered  analytically, 
each  such  combined  set  of  changes  is  a combined  set  of  mo- 
lecular modifications  wrought  in  the  affected  part  of  the 
organism.  On  every  repetition  of  the  impression,  a like  com- 
bined set  of  molecular  modifications  is  superposed  on  the 
previous  ones,  and  makes  them  greater:  thus  generating  an 
internal  idea  corresponding  to  these  similar  external  objects. 
Meanwhile,  another  kind  of  plant  produces  in  the  brain  of 
the  botanist  another  set  of  combined  changes  or  molecular 
modifications  — a set  which  does  not  agree  with  and  deepen 
the  one  we  have  been  considering,  but  disagrees  with  it;  and 
by  repetition  of  such  there  is  generated  a different  idea  answer- 
ing to  a different  species.  What  now  is  the  nature  of  this 
process  expressed  in  general  terms?  On  the  one  hand  there 
are  the  like  and  unlike  things  from  which  severally  emanate 


SEGREGATION 


411 


the  groups  of  forces  by  which  we  perceive  them.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  are  the  organs  of  sense  and  percipient  centres, 
through  which,  in  the  course  of  observation,  these  groups  of 
forces  pass.  In  passing  through  these  organs  of  sense  and 
percipient  centres,  the  like  groups  of  forces  are  segregated,  or 
separated  from  the  unlike  groups  of  forces ; and  each  such 
series  of  groups  of  forces,  parted  in  this  way  from  others,  an- 
swering to  an  external  genus  or  species,  constitutes  a state  of 
consciousness  which  we  call  our  idea  of  the  genus  or  species. 
We  before  saw  that  as  well  as  a separation  of  mixed  matters 
by  the  same  force,  there  is  a separation  of  mixed  forces  by  the 
same  matter;  and  here  we  may  further  see  that  the  unlike 
forces  so  separated,  work  unlike  structural  changes  in  the  aggre- 
gate that  separates  them  — structural  changes  each  of  which 
thus  represents,  and  is  equivalent  to,  the  integrated  series  of 
motions  that  has  produced  it. 

By  a parallel  process,  the  connections  of  co-existence  and 
sequence  among  impressions,  become  sorted  into  kinds  and 
grouped  simultaneously  with  the  impressions  themselves.  When 
two  phenomena  that  have  been  experienced  in  a given  order,  are 
repeated  in  the  same  order,  those  nerves  which  before  were 
affected  by  the  transition  are  again  affected ; and  such  molecular 
modification  as  they  received  from  the  first  motion  propagated 
through  them,  is  increased  by  this  second  motion  along  the 
same  route.  Each  such  motion  works  a structural  alteration, 
which,  in  conformity  with  the  general  law  set  forth  in  Chapter 
IX.,  involves  a diminution  of  the  resistance  to  all  such  motions 
that  afterward  occur.  The  segregation  of  these  successive  mo- 
tions (or  more  strictly,  the  permanently  effective  portions  of 
them  expended  in  overcoming  resistance)  thus  becomes  the 
cause  of,  and  the  measure  of,  the  mental  connection  between 
the  impressions  which  the  phenomena  produce.  Meanwhile, 
phenomena  that  are  recognized  as  different  from  these,  being 
phenomena  that  therefore  affect  different  nervous  elements, 
will  have  their  connections  severally  represented  by  motions 
along  other  routes;  and  along  each  of  these  other  routes,  the 
nervous  discharges  will  severally  take  place  with  a readiness 
proportionate  to  the  frequency  with  which  experience  repeats 
the  connection  of  phenomena.  The  classification  of  relations 
must  hence  go  on  pari  passu  with  the  classification  of  the  related 


412 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


things.  In  common  with  the  mixed  sensations  received  from 
the  external  world,  the  mixed  relations  it  presents,  cannot  be 
impressed  on  the  organism  without  more  or  less  segregation 
of  them  resulting.  And  through  this  continuous  sorting  and 
grouping  together  of  changes  or  motions,  which  constitutes  ner- 
vous function,  there  is  gradually  wrought  that  sorting  and 
grouping  together  of  matter,  which  constitutes  nervous  struc- 
ture. 

§ 168.  In  social  evolution,  the  collecting  together  of  the 
like  and  the  separation  of  the  unlike,  by  incident  forces,  is 
primarily  displayed  in  the  same  manner  as  we  saw  it  to  be 
among  groups  of  inferior  creatures.  The  human  races  tend  to 
differentiate  and  integrate,  as  do  races  of  other  living  forms. 
Of  the  forces  which  effect  and  maintain  the  segregations  of 
mankind,  may  first  be  named  those  external  ones  which  we 
class  as  physical  conditions.  The  climate  and  food  that  are 
favorable  to  an  indigenous  people,  are  more  or  less  detrimental 
to  a people  of  different  bodily  constitution,  coming  from  a 
remote  part  of  the  Earth.  In  tropical  regions  the  northern 
races  cannot  permanently  exist:  if  not  killed  off  in  the  first 
generation,  they  are  so  in  the  second ; and,  as  in  India,  can 
maintain  their  footing  only  by  the  artificial  process  of  con- 
tinuous immigration  and  emigration.  That  is  to  say,  the  ex- 
ternal forces  acting  equally  on  the  inhabitants  of  a given 
locality,  tend  to  expel  all  who  are  not  of  a certain  type;  and  so 
to  keep  xxp  the  integration  of  those  who  are  of  that  type. 
Though  elsewhere,  as  among  European  nations,  we  see  a certain 
amount  of  permanent  intermixture,  otherwise  brought  about, 
we  still  see  that  this  takes  place  between  races  of  not  very  dif- 
ferent types,  that  are  naturalized  to  not  very  different  conditions. 
The  other  forces  conspiring  to  produce  these  national  segrega- 
tions, are  those  mental  ones  which  show  themselves  in  the 
affinities  of  men  for  others  like  themselves.  Emigrants  usually 
desire  to  get  back  among  their  own  people;  and  where  their 
desire  does  not  take  effect,  it  is  only  because  the  restraining 
ties  are  too  great.  Units  of  one  society  who  are  obliged  to 
reside  in  another,  very  generally  form  colonies  in  the  midst 
of  that  other  — small  societies  of  their  own.  Races  which  have 
been  artificially  severed,  show  strong  tendencies  to  reunite. 


SEGREGATION 


413 


Now  though  these  segregations  that  result  from  the  mutual 
affinities  of  kindred  men,  do  not  seem  interpretable  as  illustra- 
tions of  the  general  principle  above  enunciated,  they  really  are 
thus  interpretable.  When  treating  of  the  direction  of  motion 
(§  80),  it  was  shown  that  the  actions  performed  by  men  for 
the  satisfaction  of  their  wants  were  always  motions  along  lines 
of  least  resistance.  The  feelings  characterizing  a member  of  a 
given  race,  are  feelings  which  get  complete  satisfaction  only 
among  other  members  of  that  race  — a satisfaction  partly  de- 
rived from  sympathy  with  those  having  like  feelings,  but  mainly 
derived  from  the  adapted  social  conditions  which  grow  up  where 
such  feelings  prevail.  When,  therefore,  a citizen  of  any  nation 
is,  as  we  see,  attracted  toward  others  of  his  nation,  the  rationale 
is,  that  certain  agencies  which  we  call  desires,  move  him  in 
the  direction  of  least  resistance.  Human  motions,  like  all  other 
motions,  being  determined  by  the  distribution  of  forces,  it  fol- 
lows that  such  segregations  of  races  as  are  not  produced  by 
incident  external  forces,  are  produced  by  forces  which  the  units 
of  the  races  exercise  on  each  other. 

During  the  development  of  each  society,  we  see  analogous 
segregations  caused  in  analogous  ways.  A few  of  them  result 
from  minor  natural  affinities;  but  those  most  important  ones 
which  constitute  political  and  industrial  organization,  result 
from  the  union  of  men  in  whom  similarities  have  been  produced 
by  education — -using  education  in  its  widest  sense,  as  compre- 
hending all  processes  by  which  citizens  are  molded  to  special 
functions.  Men  brought  up  to  bodily  labor,  are  men  who  have 
had  wrought  in  them  a certain  likeness — -a  likeness  which,  in 
respect  of  their  powers  of  action,  obscures  and  subordinates 
their  natural  differences.  Those  trained  to  brain-work,  have 
acquired  a certain  other  community  of  character  which  makes 
them,  as  social  units,  more  like  each  other  than  like  those  trained 
to  manual  occupations.  And  there  arise  class-segregations  an- 
swering to  these  superinduced  likenesses.  Much  more  definite 
segregations  take  place  among  the  much  more  definitely  assimi- 
lated members  of  any  class  who  are  brought  up  to  the  same 
calling.  Even  where  the  necessities  of  their  work  forbid  con- 
centration in  one  locality,  as  among  artisans  happens  with 
masons  and  bricklayers,  and  among  traders  happens  with  the 
retail  distributors,  and  among  professionals  happens  with  the 


41-4 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


medical  men;  there  are  not  wanting  Operative  Builders’  Unions, 
and  Grocers’  Societies,  and  Medical  Associations,  to  show  that 
these  artificially-assimilated  citizens  become  integrated  as  much 
as  the  conditions  permit.  And  where,  as  among  the  manufac- 
turing classes,  the  functions  discharged  do  not  require  the 
dispersion  of  the  citizens  thus  artificially  assimilated,  there  is 
a progressive  aggregation  of  them  in  special  localities;  and  a 
consequent  increase  in  the  definiteness  of  the  industrial  divi- 
sions. If  now  we  seek  the  causes  of  these  segregations,  con- 
sidered as  results  of  force  and  motion,  we  find  ourselves  brought 
to  the  same  general  principle  as  before.  This  likeness  generated 
in  any  class  or  sub-class  by  training,  is  an  aptitude  acquired 
by  its  members  for  satisfying  their  wants  in  like  ways.  That 
is,  the  occupation  to  which  each  man  has  been  brought  up,  has 
become  to  him,  in  common  with  those  similarly  brought  up,  a 
line  of  least  resistance.  Hence  under  that  pressure  which  deter- 
mines all  men  to  activity,  these  similarly-modified  social  units 
are  similarly  affected,  and  tend  to  take  similar  courses.  If  then 
there  be  any  locality  which,  either  by  its  physical  peculiarities 
or  by  peculiarities  wrought  on  it  during  social  evolution,  is 
rendered  a place  where  a certain  kind  of  industrial  action  meets 
with  less  resistance  than  elsewhere;  it  follows  from  the  law  of 
direction  of  motion  that  those  social  units  who  have  been  molded 
to  this  kind  of  industrial  action,  will  move  toward  this  place, 
or  become  integrated  there.  If,  for  instance,  the  proximity  of 
coal  and  iron  mines  to  a navigable  river,  gives  to  Glasgow  a 
certain  advantage  in  the  building  of  iron  ships  — if  the  total 
labor  required  to  produce  the  same  vessel,  and  get  its  equivalent 
in  food  and  clothing,  is  less  there  than  elsewhere;  a concen- 
tration of  iron-ship  builders  is  produced  at  Glasgow : either  by 
keeping  there  the  population  born  to  iron-ship  building;  or 
by  immigration  of  those  elsewhere  engaged  in  it;  or  by  both  — 
a concentration  that  would  be  still  more  marked  did  not  other 
districts  offer  counterbalancing  facilities.  The  principle  equally 
holds  where  the  occupation  is  mercantile  instead  of  manufactur- 
ing. Stock-brokers  cluster  together  in  the  city,  because  the 
amount  of  effort  to  be  severally  gone  through  by  them  in  dis- 
charging their  functions,  and  obtaining  their  profits,  is  less 
there  than  in  other  localities.  A place  of  exchange  having  once 
been  established,  becomes  a place  where  the  resistance  to  be 


SEGREGATION 


415 


overcome  by  each  is  less  than  elsewhere;  and  the  pursuit  of 
the  course  of  least  resistance  by  each,  involves  their  aggregation 
around  this  place. 

Of  course,  with  units  so  complicated  as  those  which  con- 
stitute a society,  and  with  forces  so  involved  as  those  which 
move  them,  the  resulting  selections  and  separations  must  be 
far  more  entangled,  or  far  less  definite,  than  those  we  have 
hitherto  considered.  Buth  though  there  may  be  pointed  out  many 
anomalies  which  at  first  sight  seem  inconsistent  with  the  alleged 
law,  a closer  study  shows  that  they  are  but  subtler  illustrations 
of  it.  For  men’s  likenesses,  being  of  various  kinds,  lead  to 
various  orders  of  segregation.  There  are  likenesses  of  dispo- 
sition, likenesses  of  taste,  likenesses  produced  by  intellectual 
culture,  likenesses  that  result  from  class-training,  likenesses  of 
political  feeling;  and  it  needs  but  to  glance  round  at  the  caste- 
divisions,  the  associations  for  philanthropic,  scientific,  and 
artistic  purposes,  the  religious  parties  and  social  cliques;  to 
see  that  some  species  of  likeness  among  the  component  members 
of  each  body  determines  their  union.  Now  the  different  segrega- 
tive processes  by  traversing  one  another,  and  often  by  their 
indirect  antagonism,  more  or  less  obscure  one  another’s  effects ; 
and  prevent  any  one  differentiated  class  from  completely  in- 
tegrating. Hence  the  anomalies  referred  to.  But  if  this  cause 
of  incompleteness  be  duly  borne  in  mind,  social  segregations 
will  be  seen  to  conform  entirely  to  the  same  principle  as  all 
other  segregations.  Analysis  will  show  that  either  by  external 
incident  forces,  or  by  what  we  may  in  a sense  regard  as  mutual 
polarity,  there  are  ever  being  produced  in  society  segregations 
of  those  units  which  have  either  a natural  likeness  or  a likeness 
generated  by  training. 

§ 169.  Can  the  general  truth  thus  variously  illustrated  be 
deduced  from  the  persistence  of  force,  in  common  with  fore- 
going ones?  Probably  the  exposition  at  the  beginning  of  the 
chapter  will  have  led  most  readers  to  conclude  that  it  can  be 
so  deduced. 

The  abstract  propositions  involved  are  these:  First,  that 
like  units,  subject  to  a uniform  force  capable  of  producing 
motion  in  them,  will  be  moved  to  like  degrees  in  the  same 
direction.  Second,  that  like  units  if  exposed  to  unlike  forces 


416 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


capable  of  producing  motion  in  them,  will  be  differently  moved 
— moved  either  in  different  directions  or  to  different  degrees 
in  the  same  direction.  Third,  that  unlike  units  if  acted  on 
by  a uniform  force  capable  of  producing  motion  in  them,  will 
be  differently  moved  — moved  either  in  different  directions  or  to 
different  degrees  in  the  same  direction.  Fourth,  that  the 
incident  forces  themselves  must  be  affected  in  analogous  ways : 
like  forces  falling  on  like  units  must  be  similarly  modified  by  the 
conflict  ; unlike  forces  falling  on  like  units  must  be  dissimilarly 
modified ; and  like  forces  falling  on  unlike  units  must  be 
dissimilarly  modified.  These  propositions  admit  of  reduction 
to  a still  more  abstract  form.  They  all  of  them  amount  to  this : — - 
that  in  the  actions  and  reactions  of  force  and  matter,  an 
unlikeness  in  either  of  the  factors  necessitates  an  unlikeness  in 
the  effects ; and  that  in  the  absence  of  unlikeness  in  either  of 
the  factors  the  effects  must  be  alike. 

When  thus  generalized,  the  immediate  dependence  of  these 
propositions  on  the  persistence  of  force,  becomes  obvious.  Any 
two  forces  that  are  not  alike,  are  forces  which  differ  either  in 
their  amounts  or  directions  or  both;  and  by  what  mathema- 
ticians call  the  resolution  of  forces,  it  may  be  proved  that  this 
difference  is  constituted  by  the  presence  in  the  one  of  some 
force  not  present  in  the  other.  Similarly,  any  two  units  or 
portions  of  matter  which  are  unlike  in  size,  weight,  form,  or 
other  attribute,  can  be  known  by  us  as  unlike  only  through 
some  unlikeness  in  the  forces  they  impress  on  our  consciousness; 
and  hence  this  unlikeness  also,  is  constituted  by  the  presence 
in  the  one  of  some  force  or  forces  not  present  in  the  other. 
Such  being  the  common  nature  of  these  unlikenesses,  what  is 
the  inevitable  corollary?  Any  unlikeness  in  the  incident  forces 
where  the  things  acted  on  are  alike,  must  generate  a difference 
between  the  effects;  since  otherwise,  the  differential  force  pro- 
duces no  effect,  and  force  is  not  persistent.  Any  unlikeness 
in  the  things  acted  on,  where  the  incident  forces  are  alike,  must 
generate  a difference  between  the  effects;  since  otherwise,  the 
differential  force  whereby  these  things  are  made  unlike,  pro- 
duces no  effect,  and  force  is  not  persistent.  While,  conversely, 
if  the  forces  acting  and  the  things  acted  on,  are  alike,  the 
effects  must  be  alike;  since  otherwise,  a differential  effect  can 


SEGREGATION 


417 


be  produced  without  a differential  cause,  and  force  is  not 
persistent. 

Thus  these  general  truths  being  necessary  implications  of 
the  persistence  of  force,  all  the  redistributions  above  traced 
out  as  characterizing  Evolution  in  its  various  phases,  are  also 
implications  of  the  persistence  of  force.  Such  portions  of 
the  permanently  effective  forces  acting  on  any  aggregate,  as 
produce  sensible  motions  in  its  parts,  cannot  but  work  the 
segregations  which  we  see  take  place.  If  of  the  mixed  units 
making  up  such  aggregate,  those  of  the  same  kind  have  like 
motions  impressed  on  them  by  a uniform  force,  while  units 
of  another  kind  are  moved  by  this  uniform  force  in  ways  more 
or  less  unlike  the  ways  in  which  those  of  the  first  kind  are 
moved,  the  two  kinds  must  separate  and  integrate.  If  the 
units  are  alike  and  the  forces  unlike,  a division  of  the  differently 
affected  units  is  equally  necessitated.  Thus  there  inevitably 
arises  the  demarcated  grouping  which  we  everywhere  see.  By 
virtue  of  this  segregation  that  grows  ever  more  decided  while 
there  remains  any  possibility  of  increasing  it,  the  change  from 
uniformity  to  multiformity  is  accompanied  by  a change  from 
indistinctness  in  the  relations  of  parts  to  distinctness  in  the 
relations  of  parts.  As  we  before  saw  that  the  transformation 
of  the  homogeneous  into  the  heterogeneous  is  inferable  from 
that  ultimate  truth  which  transcends  proof ; so  we  here  see,  that 
from  this  same  truth  is  inferable  the  transformation  of  an 
indefinite  homogeneity  into  a definite  heterogeneity. 


418 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

EQUILIBRATION. 

§ 170.  And  now  toward  what  do  these  changes  tend?  Will 
they  go  on  forever?  or  will  there  be  an  end  to  them?  Can 
things  increase  in  heterogeneity  through  all  future  time?  or 
must  there  be  a degree  which  the  differentiation  and  integration 
of  Matter  and  Motion  cannot  pass?  Is  it  possible  for  this 
universal  metamorphosis  to  proceed  in  the  same  general  course 
indefinitely?  or  does  it  work  toward  some  ultimate  state,  admit- 
ting no  further  modification  of  like  kind?  The  last  of  these 
alternative  conclusions  is  that  to  which  we  are  inevitably  driven. 
Whether  we  watch  concrete  processes,  or  whether  we  consider 
the  question  in  the  abstract,  we  are  alike  taught  that  Evolution 
has  an  impassable  limit. 

The  redistributions  of  matter  that  go  on  around  us,  are 
ever  being  brought  to  conclusions  by  the  dissipation  of  the  mo- 
tions which  effect  them.  The  rolling  stone  parts  with  portions 
of  its  momentum  to  the  things  it  strikes,  and  finally  comes 
to  rest;  as  do  also,  in  like  manner,  the  various  things  it  has 
struck.  Descending  from  the  clouds  and  trickling  over  the 
Earth’s  surface  till  it  gathers  into  brooks  and  rivers,  water, 
still  running  toward  a lower  level,  is  at  last  arrested  by  the 
resistance  of  other  water  that  has  reached  the  lowest  level. 
In  the  lake  or  sea  thus  formed,  every  agitation  raised  by  a 
wind  or  the  immersion  of  a solid  body,  propagates  itself  around 
in  waves  that  diminish  as  they  widen,  and  gradually  become  lost 
to  observation  in  motions  communicated  to  the  atmosphere  and 
the  matter  on  the  shores.  The  impulse  given  by  a player  to  the 
harp-string,  is  transformed  through  its  vibrations  into  aerial 
pulses;  and  these,  spreading  on  all  sides,  and  weakening  as 
they  spread,  soon  cease  to  be  perceptible;  and  finally  die  away 
in  generating  thermal  undulations  that  radiate  into  space. 


EQUILIBRATION 


419 


Equally  in  the  cinder  that  falls  out  of  the  fire,  and  in  the  vast 
masses  of  molten  lava  ejected  by  a volcano,  we  see  that  the 
molecular  agitation  known  to  us  as  heat,  disperses  itself  by 
radiation;  so  that  however  great  its  amount,  it  inevitably  sinks 
at  last  to  the  same  degree  as  that  existing  in  surrounding  bodies. 
And  if  the  actions  observed  be  electrical  or  chemical,  we  still 
find  that  they  work  themselves  out  in  producing  sensible  or 
insensible  movements,  that  are  dissipated  as  before;  until 
quiescence  is  eventually  reached.  The  proximate  rationale  of 
the  process  exhibited  under  these  several  forms,  lies  in  the  fact 
dwelt  on  when  treating  of  the  Multiplication  of  Effects,  that 
motions  are  ever  being  decomposed  into  divergent  motions,  and 
these  into  redivergent  motions.  The  rolling  stone  sends  off 
the  stones  it  hits  in  directions  differing  more  or  less  from  its 
own;  and  they  do  the  like  with  the  things  they  hit.  Move 
water  or  air,  and  the  movement  is  quickly  resolved  into  radiat- 
ing movements.  The  heat  produced  by  pressure  in  a given 
direction,  diffuses  itself  by  undulations  in  all  directions;  and 
so  do  the  light  and  electricity  similarly  generated.  That  is  to 
say,  these  motions  undergo  division  and  subdivision;  and  by 
continuance  of  this  process  without  limit,  they  are,  though 
never  lost,  gradually  reduced  to  insensible  motions. 

In  all  cases  then,  there  is  a progress  toward  equilibration. 
That  universal  co-existence  of  antagonist  forces  which,  as  we 
before  saw,  necessitates  the  universality  of  rhythm,  and  which, 
as  we  before  saw,  necessitates  the  decomposition  of  every  force 
into  divergent  forces,  at  the  same  time  necessitates  the  ultimate 
establishment  of  a balance.  Every  motion  being  motion  under 
resistance  is  continually  suffering  deductions;  and  these  un- 
creasing  deductions  finally  result  in  the  cessation  of  the  motion. 

The  general  truth  thus  illustrated  under  its  simplest  aspect, 
we  must  now  look  at  under  those  more  complex  aspects  it 
usually  presents  throughout  Nature.  In  nearly  all  cases,  the 
motion  of  an  aggregate  is  compound;  and  the  equilibration  of 
each  of  its  components,  being  carried  on  independently,  does 
not  affect  the  rest.  The  ship’s  bell  that  has  ceased  to  vibrate, 
still  continues  those  vertical  and  lateral  oscillations  caused  by 
the  ocean-swell.  The  water  of  the  smooth  stream  on  whose 
surface  have  died  away  the  undulations  caused  by  the  rising 
fish,  moves  as  fast  as  before  onward  to  the  sea.  The  arrested 


420 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


bullet  travels  with  undiminished  speed  round  the  Earth’s  axis. 
And  were  the  rotation  of  the  Earth  destroyed,  there  would  not 
be  implied  any  diminution  of  the  Earth’s  movement  with  respect 
to  the  Sim  and  other  external  bodies.  So  that  in  every  case, 
what  we  regard  as  equilibration  is  a disappearance  of  some  one 
or  more  of  the  many  movements  which  a body  possesses,  while 
its  other  movements  continue  as  before.  That  this  process  may 
be  duly  realized  and  the  state  of  tilings  toward  which  it  tends 
fully  understood,  it  will  be  well  here  to  cite  a case  in  which 
we  may  watch  this  successive  equilibration  of  combined,  move- 
ments more  completely  than  we  can  do  in  those  above  instanced. 
Our  end  will  best  be  served,  not  by  the  most  imposing,  but  by 
the  most  familiar  example.  Let  us  take  that  of  the  spinning 
top.  When  the  string  which  has  been  wrapped  round  a top’s 
axis  is  violently  drawn  off,  and  the  top  falls  on  to  the  table, 
it  usually  happens  that  besides  the  rapid  rotation,  two  other 
movements  are  given  to  it.  A slight  horizontal  momentum, 
unavoidably  impressed  on  it  when  leaving  the  handle,  carries 
it  away  bodily  from  the  place  on.  which  it  drops;  and  in  con- 
sequence of  its  axis  being  more  or  less  inclined,  it  falls  into 
a certain  oscillation,  described  by  the  expressive  though  inelegant 
word  — “ wabbling.”  These  two  subordinate  motions,  variable 
in  their  proportions  to  each  other  and  to  the  chief  motion,  are 
commonly  soon  brought  to  a close  by  separate  processes  of 
equilibration.  The  momentum  which  carries  the  top  bodily 
along  the  table,  resisted  somewhat  by  the  air,  but  mainly  by 
the  irregularities  of  the  surface,  shortly  disappears;  and  the  top 
thereafter  continues  to  spin  on  one  spot.  Meanwhile,  in  con- 
sequence of  that  opposition  which  the  axial  momentum  of  a rotat- 
ing body  makes  to  any  change  in  the  plane  of  rotation  (so 
beautifully  exhibited  by  the  gyroscope),  the  “wabbling”  di- 
minishes; and  like  the  other  is  quickly  ended.  These  minor 
motions  having  been  dissipated,  the  rotatory  motion,  interfered 
with  only  by  atmospheric  resistance  and  the  friction  of  the  pivot, 
continues  some  time  with  such  uniformity  that  the  top  appears 
stationary : there  being  thus  temporarily  established  a condition 
which  the  French  mathematicians  have  termed  equilibrium 
mobile.  It  is  true  that  when  the  axial  velocity  sinks  below  a 
certain  point,  new  motions  commence,  and  increase  till  the  top 
falls;  but  these  are  merely  incidental  to  a ease  in  which  the 


EQUILIBRATION 


421 


centre  of  gravity  is  above  the  point  of  support.  Were  the  top, 
having  an  axis  of  steel,  to  be  suspended  from  a surface  ade- 
quately magnetized,  all  the  phenomena  described  would  ba  dis- 
played, and  the  moving  equilibrium  having  been  once  arrived  at, 
would  continue  until  the  top  became  motionless,  without  any 
further  change  of  position.  Now  the  facts  which  it  behooves  us 
here  to  observe,  are  these.  First,  that  the  various  motions  which 
an  aggregate  possesses  are  separately  equilibrated:  those  which 
are  smallest,  or  which  meet  with  greatest  resistance,  or  both, 
disappearing  first;  and  leaving  at  last,  that  which  is  greatest, 
or  meets  with  least  resistance,  or  both.  Second,  that  when  the 
aggregate  has  a movement  of  its  parts  with  respect  to  each  other, 
which  encounters  but  little  external  resistance,  there  is  apt  to 
be  established  an  equilibrium  mobile.  Third,  that  this  moving 
equilibrium  eventually  lapses  into  complete  equilibrium. 

Fully  to  comprehend  the  process  of  equilibration,  is  not 
easy ; since  we  have  simultaneously  to  contemplate  various 
phases  of  it.  The  best  course  will  be  to  glance  separately  at 
what  we  may  conveniently  regard  as  its  four  different  orders. 
The  first  order  includes  the  comparatively  simple  motions,  as 
those  of  projectiles,  which  are  not  prolonged  enough  to  exhibit 
their  rhythmical  character ; but  which,  being  quickly  divided  and 
subdivided  into  motions  communicated  to  other  portions  of 
matter,  are  presently  dissipated  in  the  rhythm  of  ethereal  un- 
dulations. In  the  second  order,  comprehending  the  various 
kinds  of  vibration  or  oscillation  as  usually  witnessed,  the  motion 
is  used  up  in  generating  a tension  which,  having  become  equal  to 
it  or  momentarily  equilibrated  with  it,  thereupon  produces  a 
motion  in  the  opposite  direction,  that  is  subsequently  equilibrated 
in  like  manner:  thus  causing  a visible  rhythm,  that  is,  however, 
soon  lost  in  invisible  rhythms.  The  third  order  of  equilibra- 
tion, not  hitherto  noticed,  obtains  in  those  aggregates  which  con- 
tinually receive  as  much  motion  as  they  expend.  The  steam 
engine  (and  especially  that  kind  which  feeds  its  own  furnace 
and  boiler)  supplies  an  example.  Here  the  force  from  moment 
to  moment  dissipated  in  overcoming  the  resistance  of  the  mach- 
inery driven,  is  from  moment  to  moment  replaced  from  the 
fuel;  and  the  balance  of  the  two  is  maintained  by  a raising  or 
lowering  of  the  expenditure  according  to  the  variation  of  the 
supply:  each  increase  or  decrease  in  the  quantity  of  steam,  re- 


422 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


suiting  in  a rise  or  fall  of  the  engine’s  movement,  such  as  brings 
it  to  a balance  with  the  increased  or  decreased  resistance.  This, 
which  we  may  fitly  call  the  dependent  moving  equilibrium, 
should  be  specially  noted ; since  it  is  one  that  we  shall  commonly 
meet  with  throughout  various  phases  of  Evolution.  The  equili- 
bration to  be  distinguished  as  of  the  fourth  order,  is  the  inde- 
pendent or  perfect  moving  equilibrium.  This  we  see  illustrated 
in  the  rhythmical  motions  of  the  Solar  System;  which,  being 
resisted  only  by  a medium  of  inappreciable  density,  undergo  no 
sensible  diminution  in  such  periods  of  time  as  we  can  measure. 

All  these  kinds  of  equilibration  may,  however,  from  the 
highest  point  of  view,  be  regarded  as  different  modes  of  one 
kind.  For  in  every  case  the  balance  arrived  at  is  relative,  and 
not  absolute  — is  a cessation  of  the  motion  of  some  particular 
body  in  relation  to  a certain  point  or  points,  involving  neither 
the  disappearance  of  the  relative  motion  lost,  which  is  simply 
transformed  into  other  motions  nor  a diminution  of  the  body’s 
motions  with  respect  to  other  points.  Thus  understanding 
equilibration,  it  manifestly  includes  that  equilibrium  mobile , 
which  at  first  sight  seems  of  another  nature.  For  any  system 
of  bodies  exhibiting,  like  those  of  the  Solar  System,  a combina- 
tion of  balanced  rhythms,  has  this  peculiarity  — that  though  the 
constituents  of  the  system  have  relative  movements,  the  system 
as  a whole  has  no  movement.  The  centre  of  gravity  of  the  entire 
group  remains  fixed.  Whatever  quantity  of  motion  any  member 
of  it  has  in  any  direction,  is  from  moment  to  moment  counter- 
balanced by  an  equivalent  motion  in  some  other  part  of  the  group 
in  an  opposite  direction;  and  so  the  aggregate  matter  of  the 
group  is  in  a state  of  rest.  Whence  it  follows  that  the  arrival 
at  a state  of  moving  equilibrium,  is  the  disappearance  of  some 
movement  which  the  aggregate  had  in  relation  to  external  things, 
and  a continuance  of  those  movements  only  which  the  different 
parts  of  the  aggregate  have  in  relation  to  each  other.  Thus 
generalizing  the  process,  it  becomes  clear  that  all  forms  of 
equilibration  are  intrinsically  the  same ; since  in  every  aggregate, 
it  is  the  centre  of  gravity  only  that  loses  its  motion : the  con- 
stituents always  retaining  some  motion  with  respect  to  each 
other  — the  motion  of  molecules  if  none  else.  Every  equilib- 
rium commonly  regarded  as  absolute,  is  in  one  sense  a moving 
equilibrium;  because  along  with  a motionless  state  of  the  whole 


EQUILIBRATION 


423 


there  is  always  some  relative  movement  of  its  insensible  parts. 
And,  conversely,  every  moving  equilibrium  may  be  in  one  sense 
regarded  as  absolute;  because  tlie  relative  movements  of  its  sen- 
sible parts  are  accompanied  by  a motionless  state  of  the  whole. 

Something  lias  still  to  be  added  before  closing  these  some- 
what too  elaborate  preliminaries.  The  reader  must  now  es- 
pecially note  two  leading  truths  brought  out  by  the  foregoing 
exposition : the  one  concerning  the  ultimate,  or  rather  the 
penultimate,  state  of  motion  which  the  processes  described  tend 
to  bring  about;  the  other  concerning  the  concomitant  distribu- 
tion of  matter.  This  penultimate  state  of  motion  is  the  moving 
equilibrium;  which,  as  we  have  seen,  tends  to  arise  in  an  aggre- 
gate having  compound  motions,  as  a transitional  state  on  the 
way  toward  complete  equilibrium.  Throughout  Evolution  of  all 
kinds,  there  is  a continual  approximation  to,  and  more  or  less 
complete  maintenance  of,  this  moving  equilibrium.  As  in  the 
Solar  System  there  has  been  established  an  independent  moving 
equilibrium  • — an  equilibrium  such  that  the  relative  motions  of 
the  constituent  parts  are  continually  so  counterbalanced  by  op- 
posite motions,  that  the  mean  state  of  the  whole  aggregate  never 
varies ; so  is  it,  though  in  a less  distinct  manner,  with  each  form 
of  dependent  moving  equilibrium.  The  state  of  things  exhibited 
in  the  cycles  of  terrestrial  changes,  in  the  balanced  functions  of 
organic  bodies  that  have  reached  their  adult  forms,  and  in  the 
acting  and  reacting  processes  of  fully-developed  societies,  is  simi- 
larly one  characterized  by  compensating  oscillations.  The  in- 
volved combination  of  rhythms  seen  in  each  of  these  cases,  has 
an  average  Condition  which  remains  practically  constant  during 
the  deviations  ever  taking  place  on  opposite  sides  of  it.  And 
the  fact  which  we  have  here  particularly  to  observe,  is,  that  as  a 
corollary  from  the  general  law  of  equilibration  above  set  forth, 
the  evolution  of  every  aggregate  must  go  on  until  this  equilib- 
rium mobile  is  established;  since,  as  we  have  seen,  an  excess  of 
force  which  the  aggregate  possesses  in  any  direction,  must 
eventually  be  expended  in  overcoming  resistances  to  change  in 
that  direction : leaving  behind  only  those  movements  which  com- 
pensate each  other,  and  so  form  a moving  equilibrium.  Respect- 
ing the  structural  state  simultaneously  reached,  it  must  obviously 
be  one  presenting  an  arrangement  of  forces  that  counterbalance 
all  the  forces  to  which  the  aggregate  is  subject.  So  long 


424 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


as  there  remains  a residual  force  in  any  direction  — be  it  ex- 
cess of  a force  exercised  by  the  aggregate  on  its  environment, 
or  of  a force  exercised  by  its  environment  on  the  aggregate, 
equilibrium  does  not  exist;  and  therefore  the  redistribution  of 
matter  must  continue.  Whence  it  follows  that  the  limit  of 
heterogeneity  toward  which  every  aggregate  progresses,  is  the 
formation  of  as  many  specializations  and  combinations  of  parts, 
as  there  are  specialized  and  combined  forces  to  be  met. 

§ 171.  Those  successively  changed  forms  which,  if  the 
nebular  hypothesis  be  granted,  must  have  arisen  during  the  evo- 
lution of  the  Solar  System,  were  so  many  transitional  kinds  of 
moving  equilibrium ; severally  giving  place  to  more  permanent 
kinds  on  the  way  toward  complete  equilibration.  Thus  the  as- 
sumption of  an  oblate  spheroidal  figure  by  condensing  nebulous 
matter,  was  the  assumption  of  a temporary  and  partial  moving 
equilibrium  among  the  component  parts  — a moving  equilibrium 
that  must  have  slowly  grown  more  settled,  as  local  conflicting 
movements  were  dissipated.  To  the  formation  and  detachment 
of  the  nebulous  rings,  which,  according  to  this  hypothesis,  from 
time  to  time  took  place,  we  have  instances  of  progressive  equili- 
bration ending  in  the  establishment  of  a complete  moving 
equilibrium.  For  the  genesis  of  each  such  ring,  implies  a perfect 
balancing  of  that  aggregative  force  which  the  whole  spheroid 
exercises  on  its  equatorial  portion,  by  that  centrifugal  force 
which  the  equatorial  portion  has  acquired  during  previous  con- 
centration: so  long  as  these  two  forces  are  not  equal,  the  equa- 
torial portion  follows  the  contracting  mass;  but  as  soon  as  the 
second  force  has  increased  up  to  an  equality  with  the  first,  the 
equatorial  portion  can  follow  no  further,  and  remains  behind. 
While,  however,  the  resulting  ring,  regarded  as  a whole  con- 
nected by  forces  with  external  wholes,  has  reached  a state  of 
moving  equilibrium ; its  parts  are  not  balanced  with  respect  to 
each  other.  As  we  before  saw  (§  150),  the  probabilities  against 
the  maintenance  of  an  annular  form  by  nebulous  matter,  are 
immense : from  the  instability  of  the  homogeneous,  it  is  infer- 
able that  nebulous  matter  so  distributed  must  break  up  into  por- 
tions; and  eventually  concentrate  into  a single  mass.  That  is 
to  say,  the  ring  must  progress  toward  a moving  equilibrium  of 
a more  complete  kind,  during  the  dissipation  of  that  motion 


EQUILIBRATION 


425 


which  maintained  its  particles  in  a diffused  form : leaving  at 
length  a planetary  body,  attended  perhaps  by  a group  of  minor 
bodies,  severally  having  residuary  relative  motions  that  are  no 
longer  resisted  by  sensible  media;  and  there  is  thus  constituted 
an  equilibrium  mobile  that  is  all  but  absolutely  perfect.1 

Hypothesis  aside,  the  principle  of  equilibration  is  still  per- 
petually illustrated  in  those  minor  changes  of  state  which  the 
Solar  System  is  undergoing.  Each  planet,  satellite,  and  comet, 
exhibits  to  us  at  its  aphelion  a momentary  equilibrium  between 
that  force  which  urges  it  further  away  from  its  primary,  and 
that  force  which  retards  its  retreat;  since  the  retreat  goes  on 
until  the  last  of  these  forces  exactly  counterpoises  the  first.  In 
like  manner  at  perihelion  a converse  equilibrium  is  momen- 
tarily established.  The  variation  of  each  orbit  in  size,  in  eccen- 
tricity, and  in  the  position  of  its  plane,  has  similarly  a limit  at 
which  the  forces  producing  change  in  the  one  direction,  are 
equalled  by  those  antagonizing  it ; and  an  opposite  limit  at  which 
an  opposite  arrest  takes  place.  Meanwhile,  each  of  these  sim- 
ple perturbations,  as  well  as  each  of  the  complex  ones  resulting 
from  their  combination,  exhibits,  besides  the  temporary  equi- 
libration at  each  of  its  extremes,  a certain  general  equilibration 
of  compensating  deviations  on  either  side  of  a mean  state.  That 
the  moving  equilibrium  thus  constituted,  tends,  in  the  course  of 
indefinite  time,  to  lapse  into  a complete  equilibrium  by  the 
gradual  decrease  of  planetary  motions  and  eventual  integration 
of  all  the  separate  masses  composing  the  Solar  System,  is  a 


1 Sir  David  Brewster  lias  recently  been  citing  with  approval  a calcula- 
tion by  M.  Babinet,  to  the  effect  that  on  the  hypothesis  of  nebular  genesis, 
the  matter  of  the  Sun,  when  it  filled  the  Earth's  orbit,  must  have  taken 
31S1  years  to  rotate : and  that  therefore  the  hypothesis  cannot  be  true. 
This  calculation  of  M.  Babinet  may  pair-off  with  that  of  M.  Comte,  who, 
contrariwise,  made  the  time  of  this  rotation  agree  very  nearly  with  the 
Earth’s  period  of  revolution  around  the  Sun  ; for  if  M.  Comte’s  calcula- 
tion involved  a petitio  principii,  that  of  M.  Babinet  is  manifestly  based 
on  two  assumptions,  both  of  which  are  gratuitous,  and  one  of  them 
totally  inconsistent  with  the  doctrine  to  be  tested.  lie  has  evidently 
proceeded  on  the  current  supposition  respecting  the  Sun’s  internal 
density,  which  is  not  proved,  and  from  which  there  are  reasons  for  dis- 
senting ; and  he  has  evidently  taken  for  granted  that  all  parts  of  the 
nebulous  spheroid,  when  it  filled  the  Earth’s  orbit,  had  the  same  angular 
velocity;  whereas  if  (as  is  implied  in  the  nebular  hypothesis,  rationally 
understood)  this  spheroid  resulted  from  the  concentration  of  far  more 
widely  diffused  matter,  the  angular  velocity  of  its  equatorial  portion 
would  obviously  be  immensely  greater  than  that  of  its  central  portion. 


426 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


belief  suggested  by  certain  observed  cometary  retardations,  and 
entertained  by  some  of  high  authority.  The  received  opinion 
that  the  appreciable  diminution  in  the  period  of  Encke’s  comet, 
implies  a loss  of  momentum  caused  by  resistance  of  the  ethereal 
medium,  commits  astronomers  who  hold  it,  to  the  conclusion 
that  this  same  resistance  must  cause  a loss  of  planetary  motions 
— a loss  which,  infinitesimal  though  it  may  be  in  such  periods  as 
we  can  measure,  will,  if  indefinitely  continued,  bring  these  mo- 
tions to  a close.  Even  should  there  be,  as  Sir  John  Herschel 
suggests,  a rotation  of  the  ethereal  medium  in  the  same  direc- 
tion with  the  planets,  this  arrest,  though  immensely  postponed, 
would  not  be  absolutely  prevented.  Such  an  eventuality,  how- 
ever, must  in  any  case  be  so  inconceivably  remote  as  to  have  no 
other  than  a speculative  interest  for  us.  It  is  referred  to  here, 
simply  as  illustrating  the  still-continued  tendency  toward  com- 
plete equilibrium,  through  the  still-continued  dissipation  of  sen- 
sible motion,  or  transformation  of  it  into  insensible  motion. 

But  there  is  another  species  of  equilibration  going  on  in  the 
Solar  System,  with  which  we  are  more  nearly  concerned  — the 
equilibration  of  that  molecular  motion  known  as  heat.  The 
tacit  assumption  hitherto  current,  that  the  Sun  can  continue 
to  give  off  an  undiminished  amount  of  light  and  heat  through 
all  future  time,  is  fast  being  abandoned.  Involving  as  it  does, 
under  a disguise,  the  conception  of  power  produced  out  of  noth- 
ing, it  is  of  the  same  order  as  the  belief  that  misleads  perpetual- 
motion  schemers.  The  spreading  recognition  of  the  truth  that 
force  is  persistent,  and  that  consequently  whatever  force  is 
manifested  under  one  shape  must  previously  have  existed  under 
another  shape,  is  carrying  with  it  a recognition  of  the  truth 
that  the  force  known  to  us  in  solar  radiations,  is  the  changed 
form  of  some  other  force  of  which  thg  Sun  is  the  seat ; and  that 
by  the  gradual  dissipation  of  these  radiations  into  space,  this 
other  force  is  being  slowly  exhausted.  The  aggregative  force 
by  which  the  Sun’s  substance  is  drawn  to  his  centre  of  gravity, 
is  the  only  one  which  established  physical  laws  warrant  us  in 
suspecting  to  be  the  correlate  of  the  forces  thus  emanating  from 
him : the  only  source  of  a known  kind  that  can  be  assigned  for 
the  insensible  motions  constituting  solar  light  and  heat,  is  the 
sensible  motion  which  disappears  during  the  progressing  con- 
centration of  the  Sun’s  substance.  We  before  saw  it  to  be  a 


EQUILIBRATION 


427 


corollary  from  the  nebular  hypothesis,  that  there  is  such  a 
progressing  concentration  of  the  Sun’s  substance.  And  here  re- 
mains to  be  added  the  further  corollary,  that  just  as  in  the  case 
of  the  smaller  members  of  the  Solar  System,  the  heat  generated 
by  concentration,  long  ago  in  great  part  radiated  into  space,  has 
left  only  a central  residue  that  now  escapes  but  slowly ; so  in  the 
case  of  that  immensely  larger  mass  forming  the  Sun,  the  im- 
mensely greater  quantity  of  heat  generated  and  still  in  process 
of  rapid  diffusion,  must,  as  the  concentration  approaches  its 
limit,  diminish  in  amount,  and  eventually  leave  only  an  inap- 
preciable internal  remnant.  With  or  without  the  accompani- 
ment of  that  hypothesis  of  nebular  condensation,  whence,  as  we 
see,  it  naturally  follows,  the  doctrine  that  the  Sun  is  gradually 
losing  his  heat  has  now  gained  considerable  currency;  and  cal- 
culations have  been  made,  both  respecting  the  amount  of  heat 
and  light  already  radiated,  as  compared  with  the  amount  that 
remains,  and  respecting  the  period  during  which  active  radia- 
tion is  likely  to  continue.  Professor  Helmholtz  estimates,  that 
since  the  time  when,  according  to  the  nebular  hypothesis,  the 
matter  composing  the  Solar  System  extended  to  the  orbit  of 
Neptune,  there  has  been  evolved,  by  the  arrest  of  sensible  mo- 
tion, an  amount  of  heat  454  times  as  great  as  that  which  the 
Sun  still  has  to  give  out.  He  also  makes  an  approximate  esti- 
mate of  the  rate  at  which  this  remaining  4U  th  is  being  diffused; 
showing  that  a diminution  of  the  Sun’s  diameter  to  the  extent 
of  io.ooo,  would  produce  heat,  at  the  present  rate,  for  more 
than  2,000  years ; or,  in  other  words,  that  a contraction  of 
20  oo'o.ooo  of  Iris  diameter  suffices  to  generate  the  amount  of  light 
and  heat  annually  emitted ; and  that  thus,  at  the  present  rate  of 
expenditure,  the  Sun’s  diameter  will  diminish  by  something  like 
20  in  the  lapse  of  the  next  million  years.1  Of  course  these  con- 
clusions are  not  to  be  considered  as  more  than  rude  approxima- 
tions to  the  truth.  Until  quite  recently,  we  have  been  totally 
ignorant  of  the  Sun’s  chemical  composition;  and  even  now  have 
obtained  but  a superficial  knowledge  of  it.  We  know  nothing 
of  his  internal  structure;  and  it  is  quite  possible  (probable,  I 
believe)  that  the  assumptions  respecting  central  density,  made 

1 See  paper  “ On  the  Inter-action  of  Natural  Forces,”  by  Prof.  Helm- 
holtz, translated  by  Prof.  Tyndall,  and  published  in  the  “ Philosophical 
Magazine,”  supplement  to  Yol.  XI.,  fourth  series. 


42S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


in  the  foregoing  estimates,  are  wrong.  But  no  uncertainty  in 
the  data  on  which  these  calculations  proceed,  and  no  consequent 
error  in  the  inferred  rate  at  which  the  Sun  is  expending  his 
reserve  of  force,  militates  against  the  general  proposition  that 
this  reserve  of  force  is  being  expended ; and  must  in  time  be  ex- 
hausted. Though  the  residue  of  undiffused  motion  in  the  Sun, 
may  be  much  greater  than  is  above  concluded;  though  the  rate 
of  radiation  cannot,  as  assumed,  continue  at  a uniform  rate,  but 
must  eventually  go  on  with  slowly-decreasing  rapidity;  and 
though  the  period  at  which  the  Sun  will  cease  to  afford  us  ade- 
quate light  and  heat,  is  very  possibly  far  more  distant  than  above 
implied ; yet  such  a period  must  some  time  be  reached,  and  this 
is  all  which  it  here  concerns  us  to  observe. 

Thus  while  the  Solar  System,  if  evolved  from  diffused  mat- 
ter, has  illustrated  the  law  of  equilibration  in  the  establishment 
of  a complete  moving  equilibrium;  and  while,  as  at  present  con- 
stituted, it  illustrates  the  law  of  equilibration  in  the  balancing 
of  all  its  movements ; it  also  illustrates  this  law  in  the  processes 
which  astronomers  and  physicists  infer  are  still  going  on.  That 
motion  of  masses  produced  during  Evolution,  is  being  slowly  re- 
diffused  in  molecular  motion  of  the  ethereal  medium;  both 
through  the  progressive  integration  of  each  mass,  and  the  re- 
sistance to  its  motion  through  space.  Infinitely  remote  as  may 
be  the  state  when  all  the  motions  of  masses  shall  be  transformed 
into  molecular  motion,  and  all  the  molecular  motion  equilibrated ; 
yet  such  a state  of  complete  integration  and  complete  equilibra- 
tion, is  that  toward  which  the  changes  now  going  on  throughout 
the  Solar  System  inevitably  tend. 

§ 172.  A spherical  figure  is  the  one  which  can  alone  equili- 
brate the  forces  of  mutually-gravitating  atoms.  If  the  aggregate 
of  such  atoms  lias  a rotatory  motion,  the  form  of  equilibrium 
becomes  a spheroid  of  greater  or  less  oblateness,  according  to  the 
rate  of  rotation  ; and  it  has  been  ascertained  that  the  Earth  is 
an  oblate  spheroid,  diverging  just  as  much  from  sphericity  as  is 
requisite  to  counterbalance  the  centrifugal  force  consequent  on 
its  velocity  round  its  axis.  That  is  to  say,  during  the  evolution 
of  the  Earth,  there  has  been  reached  a complete  equilibrium  of 
those  forces  which  affect  its  general  outline.  The  only  other 
process  of  equilibration  which  the  Earth  as  a whole  can  exhibit, 


EQUILIBRATION 


429 


is  the  loss  of  its  axial  motion;  and  that  any  such  loss  is  going 
on  ive  have  no  direct  evidence.  It  has  been  contended,  however, 
by  Professor  Helmholtz,  that  inappreciable  as  may  be  its  effect 
within  known  periods  of  time,  the  friction  of  the  tidal  wave 
must  be  slowly  diminishing  the  Earth’s  rotatory  motion,  and 
must  eventually  destroy  it.  Now  though  it  seems  an  oversight 
to  say  that  the  Earth’s  rotation  can  thus  be  destroyed,  since  the 
extreme  effect,  to  be  reached  only  in  infinite  time  by  such  a 
process,  would  be  an  extension  of  the  Earth’s  day  to  the  length 
of  a lunation;  yet  it  seems  clear  that  this  friction  of  the  tidal 
wave  is  a real  cause  of  decreasing  rotation.  Slow  as  its  action 
is,  we  must  recognize  it  as  exemplifying,  under  another  form, 
the  universal  progress  toward  equilibrium. 

It  is  needless  to  point  out,  in  detail,  how  those  movements 
which  the  Sim’s  rays  generate  in  the  air  and  water  on  the 
Earth’s  surface,  and  through  them  in  the  Earth’s  solid  sub- 
stance,1 one  and  all  teach  the  same  general  truth.  Evidently 
the  winds  and  waves  and  streams,  as  well  as  the  denudations  and 
depositions  they  effect,  perpetually  illustrate  on  a grand  scale, 
and  in  endless  modes,  that  gradual  dissipation  of  motions  de- 
scribed in  the  first  section ; and  tire  consequent  tendency  toward 
a balanced  distribution  of  forces.  Each  of  these  sensible  motions, 
produced  directly  or  indirectly  by  integration  of  those  insen- 
sible motions  communicated  from  the  Sun,  becomes,  as  we  have 
seen,  divided  and  subdivided  into  motions  less  and  less  sen- 
sible; until  it  is  finally  reduced  to  insensible  motions,  and 
radiated  from  the  Earth  in  the  shape  of  thermal  undulations. 
In  their  totality,  these  complex  movements  of  aerial,  liquid,  and 
solid  matter  on  the  Earth’s  crust,  constitute  a dependent  moving 
equilibrium.  As  we  before  saw,  there  is  traceable  throughout 
them  an  involved  combination  of  rhythms.  The  unceasing  cir- 
culation of  water  from  the  ocean  to  the  land,  and  from  the  land 
back  to  the  ocean,  is  a type  of  these  various  compensating 
actions ; which,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  irregularities  produced  by 

1 Until  I recently  consulted  his  “ Outlines  of  Astronomy  ” on  another 
question,  I was  not  aware  that  so  far  back  as  1833,  Sir  John  Herschel 
had  enunciated  the  doctrine  that  “ the  sun’s  rays  are  the  ultimate  source 
of  almost  every  motion  which  takes  place  on  the  surface  of  the  earth.” 
He  expressly  includes  all  geologic,  meteorologic,  and  vital  actions ; as 
also  those  which  we  produce  by  the  combustion  of  coal.  The  late  George 
Stephenson  appears  to  have  been  wrongly  credited  with  this  last  idea. 


430 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


their  mutual  interferences,  maintain  an  average.  And  in  this, 
as  in  other  equilibrations  of  the  third  order,  we  see  that  the 
power  from  moment  to  moment  in  course  of  dissipation,  is  from 
moment  to  moment  renewed  from  without:  the  rises  and  falls  in 
the  supply  being  balanced  by  rises  and  falls  in  the  expenditure; 
as  witness  the  correspondence  between  the  magnetic  variations 
and  the  cycle  of  the  solar  spots.  But  the  fact  it  chiefly  con- 
cerns us  to  observe,  is,  that  this  process  must  go  on  bringing 
things  ever  nearer  to  complete  rest.  These  mechanical  move- 
ments, meteorologic  and  geologic,  which  are  continually  being 
equilibrated,  both  temporarily  by  counter-movements  and  per- 
manently by  the  dissipation  of  such  movements  and  counter- 
movements, will  slowly  diminish  as  the  quantity  of  force  received 
from  the  Sun  diminishes.  As  the  insensible  motions  propagated 
to  us  from  the  centre  of  our  system  become  feebler,  the  sensible 
motions  here  produced  by  them  must  decrease;  and  at  that  re- 
mote period  when  the  solar  heat  has  ceased  to  be  appreciable, 
there  will  no  longer  be  any  appreciable  redistributions  of  matter 
on  the  surface  of  our  planet. 

Thus  from  the  highest  point  of  view,  all  terrestrial  changes 
are  incidents  in  the  course  of  cosmical  equilibration.  It  was 
before  pointed  out  (§  69),  that  of  the  incessant  alterations 
which  the  Earth’s  crust  and  atmosphere  undergo,  those  which 
are  not  due  to  the  still-progressing  motion  of  the  Earth’s  sub- 
stance toward  its  centre  of  gravity,  are  due  to  the  still-progress- 
ing motion  of  the  Sun's  substance  toward  its  centre  of  gravity. 
Here  it  is  to  be  remarked,  that  this  continuance  of  integration 
in  the  Earth  and  in  the  Sun,  is  a continuance  of  that  transfor- 
mation of  sensible  motion  into  insensible  motion  which  we  have 
seen  ends  in  equilibration;  and  that  the  arrival  in  each  case  at 
the  extreme  of  integration,  is  the  arrival  at  a state  in  which  no 
more  sensible  motion  remains  to  be  transformed  into  insensible 
motion  — a state  in  which  the  forces  producing  integration  and 
the  forces  opposing  integration  have  become  equal. 

§ 173.  Every  living  body  exhibits,  in  a fourfold  form,  the 
process  we  are  tracing  out  — exhibits  it  from  moment  to  mo- 
ment in  the  balancing  of  mechanical  forces;  from  hour  to  hour 
in  the  balancing  of  functions ; from  year  to  year  in  the  changes 
of  state  that  compensate  changes  of  condition;  and  finally  in 


EQUILIBRATION 


4S1 


the  complete  arrest  of  vital  movements  at  death.  Let  us  con- 
sider the  facts  under  these  heads. 

The  sensible  motion  constituting  each  visible  action  of  an 
organism,  is  soon  brought  to  a close  by  some  adverse  force  with- 
in or  without  the  organism.  When  the  arm  is  raised,  the 
motion  given  to  it  is  antagonized  partly  by  gravity  and  partly 
by  the  internal  resistances  consequent  on  structure;  and  its 
motion,  thus  suffering  continual  deduction,  ends  when  the  arm 
has  reached  a position  at  which  the  forces  are  equilibrated.  The 
limits  of  each  systole  and  diastole  of  the  heart,  severally  show  us 
a momentary  equilibrium  between  muscular  strains  that  produce 
opposite  movements ; and  each  gush  of  blood  requires  to  be  imme- 
diately followed  by  another,  because  the  rapid  dissipation  of  its 
momentum  would  otherwise  soon  bring  the  mass  of  circulating 
fluid  to  a stand.  As  much  in  the  actions  and  reactions  going 
on  among  the  internal  organs,  as  in  the  mechanical  balancing 
of  the  whole  body,  there  is  at  every  instant  a progressive  equi- 
libration of  the  motions  at  every  instant  produced.  Viewed  in 
their  aggregate,  and  as  forming  a series,  the  organic  functions 
constitute  a dependent  moving  equilibrium  — a moving  equi- 
librium, of  which  the  motive  power  is  ever  being  dissipated 
through  the  special  equilibrations  just  exemplified,  and  is  ever 
being  renewed  by  the  taking  in  of  additional  motive  power. 
Food  is  a store  of  force  which  continually  adds  to  the  momentum 
of  the  vital  actions,  as  much  as  is  continually  deducted  from 
them  by  the  forces  overcome.  All  the  functional  movements 
thus  maintained,  are,  as  we  havo  seen,  rhythmical  (§  85)  ; by 
their  union  compound  rhythms  of  various  lengths  and  com- 
plexities are  produced;  and  in  these  simple  and  compound 
rhythms,  the  process  of  equilibration,  besides  being  exemplified 
at  each  extreme  of  every  rhythm,  is  seen  in  the  habitual  preserva- 
tion of  a constant  mean,  and  in  the  re-establishment  of  that  mean 
when  accidental  causes  have  produced  divergence  from  it. 
When,  for  instance,  there  is  a great  expenditure  of  motion 
through  muscular  activity,  there  arises  a reactive  demand  on 
those  stores  of  latent  motion  which  are  laid  up  in  the  form  of 
consumable  matter  throughout  the  tissues : increased  respiration 
and  increased  rapidity  of  circulation,  are  instrumental  to  an 
extra  genesis  of  force,  that  counterbalances  the  extra  dissipation 
of  force.  This  unusual  transformation  of  molecular  motion  into 


432 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


sensible  motion,  is  presently  followed  by  an  unusual  absorption 
of  food  — the  source  of  molecular  motion ; and  in  proportion 
as  there  has  been  a prolonged  draft  upon  the  spare  capital  of  the 
system,  is  there  a tendency  to  a prolonged  rest,  during  which 
that  spare  capital  is  replaced.  If  the  deviation  from  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  the  functions  has  been  so  great  as  to  derange 
them,  as  when  violent  exertion  produces  loss  of  appetite  and 
loss  of  sleep,  an  equilibration  is  still  eventually  effected.  Pro- 
viding the  disturbance  is  not  such  as  to  overturn  the  balance  of 
the  functions,  and  destroy  life  (in  which  case  a complete  equi- 
libration is  suddenly  effected),  the  ordinary  balance  is  by  and 
by  re-established : the  returning  appetite  is  keen  in  proportion  as 
the  waste  has  been  large;  while  sleep,  sound  and  prolonged, 
makes  up  for  previous  wakefulness.  Not  even  in  those  extreme 
cases  where  some  excess  has  wrought  a derangement  that  is  never 
wholly  rectified,  is  there  an  exception  to  the  general  law ; for  in 
such  cases  the  cycle  of  the  functions  is,  after  a time,  equilibrated 
about  a new  mean  state,  which  thenceforth  becomes  the  normal 
state  of  the  individual.  Thus,  among  the  involved  rhythmical 
changes  constituting  organic  life,  any  disturbing  force  that  works 
an  excess  of  change  in  some  direction,  is  gradually  diminished 
and  finally  neutralized  by  antagonistic  forces;  which  there- 
upon work  a compensating  change  in  the  opposite  direction, 
and  so,  after  more  or  less  of  oscillation,  restore  the  medium  con- 
dition. And  this  process  it  is,  which  constitutes  what  physicians 
call  the  vis  medicatrix  natures.  The  third  form  of  equilibration 
displayed  by  organic  bodies,  is  a necessary  sequence  of  that  just 
illustrated.  When  through  a change  of  habit  or  circumstance, 
an  organism  is  permanently  subject  to  some  new  influence,  or 
different  amount  of  an  old  influence,  there  arises,  after  more  or 
less  disturbance  of  the  organic  rhythms,  a balancing  of  them 
around  the  new  average  condition  produced  by  this  additional 
influence.  As  temporary  divergences  of  the  organic  rhythms 
are  counteracted  by  temporary  divergences  of  a reverse  kind ; so 
there  is  an  equilibration  of  their  permanent  divergences  by  the 
genesis  of  opposing  divergences  that  are  equally  permanent. 
If  the  quantity  of  motion  to  be  habitually  generated  by  a muscle, 
becomes  greater  than  before,  its  nutrition  becomes  greater  than 
before.  If  the  expenditure  of  the  muscle  bears  to  its  nutrition, 
a greater  ratio  than  expenditure  bears  to  nutrition  in  other  parts 


EQUILIBRATION 


433 


of  the  system;  the  excess  of  nutrition  becomes  such  that  the 
muscle  grows.  And  the  cessation  of  its  growth  is  the  establish- 
ment of  a balance  between  the  daily  waste  and  the  daily  repair 
— the  daily  expenditure  of  force,  and  the  amount  of  latent  force 
daily  added.  The  like  must  manifestly  be  the  case  with  all 
organic  modifications  consequent  on  change  of  climate  or  food. 
This  is  a conclusion  which  we  may  safely  draw  without  knowing 
the  special  rearrangements  that  effect  the  equilibration.  If  we 
see  that  a different  mode  of  life  is  followed,  after  a period  of 
functional  derangement,  by  some  altered  condition  of  the  sys- 
tem — if  we  see  that  this  altered  condition,  becoming  by  and  by 
established,  continues  without  further  change;  we  have  no  alter- 
native but  to  say,  that  the  new  forces  brought  to  bear  on  the 
system  have  been  compensated  by  the  opposing  forces  they  have 
evoked.  And  this  is  the  interpretation  of  the  process  which  we 
call  adaptation.  Finally,  each  organism  illustrates  the  law  in 
the  ensemble  of  its  life.  At  the  outset  it  daily  absorbs  under 
the  form  of  food,  an  amount  of  force  greater  than  it  daily  ex- 
pends ; and  the  surplus  is  daily  equilibrated  by  growth.  As  ma- 
turity is  approached,  this  surplus  diminishes;  and  in  the  per- 
fect organism,  the  day’s  absorption  of  potential  motion  balances 
the  day’s  expenditure  of  actual  motion.  That  is  to  say,  during 
adult  life  there  is  continuously  exhibited  an  equilibration  of  the 
third  order.  Eventually,  the  daily  loss,  beginning  to  outbalance 
the  daily  gain,  there  results  a diminishing  amount  of  functional 
action ; the  organic  rhythms  extend  less  and  less  widely  on  each 
side  of  the  medium  state;  and  there  finally  results  that  com- 
plete equilibration  which  we  call  death. 

The  ultimate  structural  state  accompanying  that  ultimate 
fimctional  state  toward  which  an  organism  tends,  both  indi- 
vidually and  as  a species,  may  be  deduced  from  one  of  the  prop- 
ositions set  down  in  the  opening  section  of  this  chapter.  We 
saw  that  the  limit  of  heterogeneity  is  arrived  at  whenever  the 
equilibration  of  any  aggregate  becomes  complete  — that  the  re- 
distribution of  matter  can  continue  so  long  only  as  there  con- 
tinues any  motion  unbalanced.  Whence  we  found  it  to  follow 
that  the  final  structural  arrangements,  must  be  such  as  will 
meet  all  the  forces  acting  on  the  aggregate,  by  equivalent  antag- 
onist forces.  What  is  the  implication  in  the  case  of  organic 
aggregates;  the  equilibrium  of  which  is  a moving  one?  We 


434 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


have  seen  that  the  maintenance  of  such  a moving  equilibrium 
requires  the  habitual  genesis  of  internal  forces  corresponding 
in  number,  directions,  and  amounts  to  the*  external  incident 
forces  — as  many  inner  functions,  single  or  combined,  as  there 
are  single  or  combined  outer  actions  to  be  met.  But  functions 
are  the  correlatives  of  organs;  amounts  of  functions  are,  other 
things  equal,  the  correlatives  of  sizes  of  organs;  and  combina- 
tions of  functions  are  correlatives  of  connections  of  organs. 
Hence  the  structural  complexity  accompanying  functional  equi- 
libration, is  definable  as  one  in  which  there  are  as  many  special- 
ized parts  as  are  capable,  separately  and  jointly,  of  counteract- 
ing the  separate  and  joint  forces  amid  which  the  organism  exists. 
And  this  is  the  limit  of  organic  heterogeneity ; to  which  man  has 
approached  more  nearly  than  any  other  creature. 

Groups  of  organisms  display  this  universal  tendency  toward 
a balance  very  obviously.  In  § 85,  every  species  of  plant  and 
animal  was  shown  to  be  perpetually  undergoing  a rhythmical 
variation  in  number  — now  from  abundance  of  food  and  ab- 
sence of  enemies  rising  above  its  average,  and  then  by  a conse- 
quent scarcity  of  food  and  abundance  of  enemies  being  depressed 
below  its  average.  And  here  we  have  to  observe  that  there  is 
thus  maintained  an  equilibrium  between  the  sum  of  those  forces 
which  result  in  the  increase  of  each  race,  and  the  sum  of  those 
forces  which  result  in  its  decrease.  Either  limit  of  variation 
is  a point  at  which  the  one  set  of  forces,  before  in  excess  of  the 
other,  is  counter-balanced  by  it.  And  amid  these  oscillations 
produced  by  their  conflict,  lies  that  average  number  of  the 
species  at  which  its  expansive  tendency  is  in  equilibrium  with 
surrounding  repressive  tendencies.  Nor  can  it  be  questioned 
that  this  balancing  of  the  preservative  and  destructive  forces 
which  we  see  going  on  in  every  race,  must  necessarily  go  on. 
Since  increase  of  number  cannot  but  continue  until  increase  of 
mortality  stops  it;  and  decrease  of  number  cannot  but  con- 
tinue until  it  is  either  arrested  by.  fertility  or  extinguishes  the 
race  entirely. 

§ 174,  The  equilibrations  of  those  nervous  actions  which 
constitute  what  we  know  as  mental  life,  may  be  classified  in  like 
manner  with  those  which  constitute  what  we  distinguish  as 
bodily  life.  We  may  deal  with  them  in  the  same  order. 


EQUILIBRATION 


435 


Each  pulse  of  nervous  force  from  moment  to  moment  gen- 
erated (and  it  was  shown  in  § 86  that  nervous  currents  are  not 
continuous  but  rhythmical)  is  met  by  counteracting  forces;  in 
overcoming  which  it  is  dispersed  and  equilibrated.  When  trac- 
ing out  the  correlation  and  equivalence  of  forces,  we  saw  that 
each  sensation  and  emotion,  or  rather  such  part  of  it  as  remains 
after  the  excitation  of  associated  ideas  and  feelings,  is  expended 
in  working  bodily  changes  — contractions  of  the  involuntary  mus- 
cles, the  voluntary  muscles,  or  both ; as  also  in  a certain  stimula- 
tion of  secreting  organs.  That  the  movements  thus  initiated  are 
ever  being  brought  to  a close  by  the  opposing  forces  they  evoke, 
was  pointed  out  above ; and  here  it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  like 
holds  with  the  nervous  changes  thus  initiated.  Various  facts 
prove  that  the  arousing  of  a thought  or  feeling,  always  involves 
the  overcoming  of  a certain  resistance:  instance  the  fact  that 
where  the  association  of  mental  states  has  not  been  frequent,  a 
sensible  effort  is  needed  to  call  up  the  one  after  the  other;  in- 
stance the  fact  that  during  nervous  prostration  there  is  a com- 
parative inability  to  think  — the  ideas  will  not  follow  one  an- 
other with  the  habitual  rapidity ; instance  the  converse  fact  that 
at  times  of  unusual  energy,  natural  or  artificial,  the  friction  of 
thought  becomes  relatively  small,  and  more  numerous,  more 
remote,  or  more  difficult  connections  of  ideas  are  formed.  That 
is  to  say,  the  wave  of  nervous  energy  each  instant  generated, 
propagates  itself  throughout  body  and  brain,  along  those  chan- 
nels which  the  conditions  at  the  instant  render  lines  of  least 
resistance;  and  spreading  widely  in  proportion  to  its  amount, 
ends  only  when  it  is  equilibrated  by  the  resistances  it  every- 
where meets.  If  we  contemplate  mental  actions  as  extending 
over  hours  and  days,  we  discover  equilibrations  analogous  to 
those  hourly  and  daily  established  among  the  bodily  functions. 
In  the  one  case  as  in  the  other,  there  are  rhythms  which  ex- 
hibit a balancing  of  opposing  forces  at  each  extreme,  and  the 
maintenance  of  a certain  general  balance.  This  is  seen  in  the 
daily  alternation  of  mental  activity  and  mental  rest  — the  forces 
expended  during  the  one  being  compensated  by  the  forces  ac- 
quired during  the  other.  It  is  also  seen  in  the  recurring  rise 
and  fall  of  each  desire : each  desire,  reaching  a certain  intensity, 
is  equilibrated  either  by  expenditure  of  the  force  it  embodies, 
in  the  desired  actions,  or,  less  completely,  in  the  imagination  of 


436 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


such  actions:  the  process  ending  in  that  satiety,  or  that  com- 
parative quiescence,  forming  the  opposite  limit  of  the  rhythm. 
And  it  is  further  manifest  under  a twofold  form,  on  occasions 
of  intense  joy  or  grief ; each  paroxysm  of  passion,  expressing 
itself  in  vehement  bodily  actions,  presently  reaches  an  extreme 
whence  the  counteracting  forces  produce  a return  to  a condi- 
tion of  moderate  excitement;  and  the  successive  paroxysms,  fin- 
ally diminishing  in  intensity,  end  in  a mental  equilibrium  either 
like  that  before  existing,  or  partially  differing  from  it  in  its 
medium  state.  But  the  species  of  mental  equilibration  to  be 
more  especially  noted,  is  that  shown  in  the  establishment  of  a 
correspondence  between  relations  among  our  states  of  conscious- 
ness and  relations  in  the  external  world.  Each  outer  connection 
of  phenomena  which  we  are  capable  of  perceiving,  generates, 
through  accumulated  experiences,  an  inner  connection  of  mental 
states;  and  the  result  toward  which  this  process  tends,  is  the 
formation  of  a mental  connection  having  a relative  strength  that 
answers  to  the  relative  constancy  of  the  physical  connection  rep- 
resented. In  conformity  with  the  general  law  that  motion 
pursues  the  line  of  least  resistance,  and  that,  other  things  equal, 
a line  once  taken  by  motion  is  made  a line  that  will  be  more  read- 
ily pursued  by  future  motion ; we  have  seen  that  the  ease  with 
which  nervous  impressions  follow  one  another,  is,  other  things 
equal,  great  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  times  they  have  been 
repeated  together  in  experience.  Hence,  corresponding  to  such 
an  invariable  relation  as  that  between  the  resistance  of  an  ob- 
ject and  some  extension  possessed  by  it,  there  arises  an  indis- 
soluble connection  in  consciousness ; and  this  connection,  being 
as  absolute  internally  as  the  answering  one  is  externally,  under- 
goes no  further  change  — the  inner  relation  is  in  perfect  equilib- 
rium with  the  outer  relation.  Conversely,  it  hence  happens  that 
to  such  uncertain  relations  of  phenomena  as  that  between  clouds 
and  rain,  there  arise  relations  of  ideas  of  a like  uncertainty ; and 
if,  under  given  aspects  of  the  sky,  the  tendencies  to  infer  fair 
or  foul  weather  correspond  to  the  frequencies  with  which  fair  or 
foul  weather  follow  such  aspects,  the  accumulation  of  experiences 
has  balanced  the  mental  sequences  and  the  physical  sequences. 
When  it  is  remembered  that  between  these  extremes  there  are 
countless  orders  of  external  connections  having  different  degrees 
of  constancy,  and  that  during  the  evolution  of  intelligence  there 


EQUILIBRATION 


437 


arise  answering  internal  associations  having  different  degrees 
of  cohesion ; it  will  be  seen  that  there  is  a progress  toward  equi- 
librium between  the  relations  of  thought  and  the  relations  of 
things.  This  equilibration  can  end  only  when  each  relation  of 
things  has  generated  in  us  a relation  of  thought,  such  that  on  the 
occurrence  of  the  conditions,  the  relation  in  thought  arises  as 
certainly  as  the  relation  in  things.  Supposing  this  state  to  be 
reached  (which  however  it  can  be  only  in  infinite  time),  ex- 
perience will  cease  to  produce  any  further  mental  evolution  — - 
there  will  have  been  reached  a perfect  correspondence  betweeru 
ideas  and  facts;  and  the  intellectual  adaptation  of  man  to  his 
circumstances  will  be  complete.  The  like  general  truths  are 
exhibited  in  the  process  of  moral  adaptation  ; which  is  a con- 
tinual approach  to  equilibrium  between  the  emotions  and  the 
kinds  of  conduct  necessitated  by  surrounding  conditions.  The 
connections  of  feelings  and  actions  are  determined  in  the  same 
way  as  the  connections  of  ideas : just  as  repeating  the  association 
of  two  ideas  facilitates  the  excitement  of  the  one  by  the  other: 
so  does  each  discharge  of  feeling  into  action  render  the  sub- 
sequent discharge  of  such  feeling  into  such  action  more  easy. 
Hence  it  happens  that  if  an  individual  is  placed  permanently  in 
conditions  which  demand  more  action  of  a special  kind  than  has 
before  been  requisite,  or  than  is  natural  to  him  — if  the  pressure 
of  the  painful  feelings  which  these  conditions  entail  when  disre- 
garded, impels  him  to  perform  this  action  to  a greater  extent  — 
if  by  every  more  frequent  or  more  lengthened  performance  of  it 
under  such  pressure,  the  resistance  is  somewhat  diminished; 
then,  clearly,  there  is  an  advance  toward  a balance  between  the 
demand  for  this  kind  of  action  and  the  supply  of  it.  Either  in 
himself,  or  in  his  descendants  continuing  to  live  under  these 
conditions,  enforced  repetition  must  eventually  bring  about  a 
state  in  which  this  mode  of  directing  the  energies  will  be  no 
more  repugnant  than  the  various  other  modes  previously  natural 
to  the  race.  Hence  the  limit  toward  which  emotional  modifica- 
tion perpetually  tends,  and  to  which  it  must  approach  indefi- 
nitely near  (though  it  can  absolutely  reach  it  only  in  infinite 
time),  is  a combination  of  desires  that  correspond  to  all  the 
different  orders  of  activity  which  the  circumstances  of  life  call 
for  — desires  severally  proportionate  in  strength  to  the  needs 
for  these  orders  of  activity;  and  severally  satisfied  by  these  or- 


43S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ders  of  activity.  In  what  we  distinguish  as  acquired  habits,  and 
in  the  moral  differences  of  races  and  nations  produced  by  habits 
that  are  maintained  through  successive  generations,  we  have 
countless  illustrations  of  this  progressive  adaptation;  which  can 
cease  only  with  the  establishment  of  a complete  equilibrium  be- 
tween constitution  and  conditions. 

Possibly  some  will  fail  to  see  how  the  equilibrations  described 
in  this  section  can  be  classed  with  those  preceding  them ; and  will 
be  inclined  to  say  that  what  are  here  set  down  as  facts,  are  but 
analogies.  Nevertheless  such  equilibrations  are  as  truly  phys- 
ical as  the  rest.  To  show  this  fully,  would  require  a more  de- 
tailed analysis  than  can  now  be  entered  on.  For  the  present  it 
must  suffice  to  point  out,  as  before  (§  71),  that  what  we  know 
subjectively  as  states  of  consciousness,  are,  objectively,  modes  of 
force;  that  so  much  feeling  is  the  correlate  of  so  much  motion; 
that  the  performance  of  any  bodily  action  is  the  transformation 
of  a certain  amount  of  feeling  into  its  equivalent  amount  of  mo- 
tion; that  this  bodily  action  is  met  by  forces  which  it  is  ex- 
pended in  overcoming;  and  that  the  necessity  for  the  frequent 
repetition  of  this  action  implies  the  frequent  recurrence  of  forces 
to  be  so  overcome.  Hence  the  existence  in  any  individual  of  an 
emotional  stimulus  that  is  in  equilibrium  with  certain  external 
requirements,  is  literally  the  habitual  production  of  a certain 
specialized  portion  of  nervous  energy,  equivalent  in  amount  to  a 
certain  order  of  external  resistances  that  are  habitually  met. 
And  thus  the  ultimate  state,  forming  the  limit  toward  which 
Evolution  carries  us,  is  one  in  which  the  kinds  and  quantities 
of  mental  energy  daily  generated  and  transformed  into  motions, 
are  equivalent  to,  or  in  equilibrium  with,  the  various  orders 
and  degrees  of  surrounding  forces  which  antagonize  such  mo- 
tions. 

§ 175.  Each  society  taken  as  a whole,  displays  the  process  of 
equilibration  in  the  continuous  adjustment  of  its  population  to 
its  means  of  subsistence.  A tribe  of  men  living  on  wild  animals 
and  fruits  is  manifestly,  like  every  tribe  of  inferior  creatures, 
always  oscillating  about  that  average  number  which  the  locality 
can  support.  Though  by  artificial  production,  and  by  successive 
improvements  in  artificial  production,  a superior  race  contin- 
ually alters  the  limit  which  external  conditions  put  to  population ; 


EQUILIBRATION 


439 


yet  there  is  ever  a checking  of  population  at  the  temporary  limit 
reached.  It  is  true  that  where  the  limit  is  being  so  rapidly 
changed  as  among  ourselves,  there  is  no  actual  stoppage : there  is 
only  a rhythmical  variation  in  the  rate  of  increase.  But  in 
noting  the  causes  of  this  rhythmical  variation  — in  watching 
how,  during  periods  of  abundance,  the  proportion  of  marriages 
increases,  and  how  it  decreases  during  periods  of  scarcity ; it  will 
be  seen  that  the  expansive  force  produces  unusual  advance  when- 
ever the  repressive  force  diminishes,  and  vice  versa;  and  thus 
there  is  as  near  a balancing  of  the  two  as  the  changing  conditions 
permit. 

The  internal  actions  constituting  social  functions,  exemplify 
the  general  principle  no  less  clearly.  Supply  and  demand  are 
continually  being  adjusted  throughout  all  industrial  processes; 
and  this  equilibration  is  interpretable  in  the  same  way  as  preced- 
ing ones.  The  production  and  distribution  of  a commodity,  is 
the  expression  of  a certain  aggregate  of  forces  causing  special 
kinds  and  amounts  of  motion.  The  price  of  this  commodity  is 
the  measure  of  a certain  other  aggregate  of  forces  expended  by 
the  laborer  who  purchases  it,  in  other  kinds  and  amounts  of 
motion.  And  the  variations  of  price  represent  a rhythmical 
balancing,  of  these  forces.  Every  rise  or  fall  in  the  rate  of  in- 
terest, or  change  in  the  value  of  a particular  security,  implies  a 
conflict  of  forces  in  which  some,  becoming  temporarily  predomi- 
nant, cause  a movement  that  is  presently  arrested  or  equilibrated 
by  the  increase  of  opposing  forces;  and  amid  these  daily  and 
hourly  oscillations,  lies  a more  slowly-varying  medium,  into 
which  the  value  ever  tends  to  settle;  and  would  settle  but  for  the 
constant  addition  of  new  influences.  As  in  the  individual  organ- 
ism sc  in  the  social  organism,  functional  equilibrations  generate 
structural  equilibrations.  When  on  the  workers  in  any  trade 
there  comes  an  increased  demand,  and  when  in  return  for  the 
increased  supply,  there  is  given  to  them  an  amount  of  other 
commodities  larger  than  was  before  habitual  — when,  conse- 
quently, the  resistances  overcome  by  them  in  sustaining  life  are 
less  than  the  resistances  overcome  by  other  workers ; there  results 
a flow  of  other  workers  into  this  trade.  This  flow  continues 
until  the  extra  demand  is  met,  and  the  wages  so  far  fall  again 
that  the  total  resistance  overcome  in  obtaining  a given  amount 
of  produce,  is  as  great  in  this  newly-adopted  occupation  as  in  the 


440 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


occupations  whence  it  drew  recruits.  The  occurrence  of  motion 
along  lines  of  least  resistance,  was  before  shown  to  necessitate 
the  growth  of  population  in  those  places  where  the  labor  re- 
quired for  self-maintenance  is  the  smallest ; and  here  we  further 
see  that  those  engaged  in  any  such  advantageous  locality,  or  ad- 
vantageous business,  must  multiply  till  there  arises  an  approxi- 
mate balance  between  this  locality  or  business  and  others  ac- 
cessible to  the  same  citizens.  In  determining  the  career  of 
every  youth,  we  see  an  estimation  by  parents  of  the  respective  ad- 
vantages offered  by  all  that  are  available,  and  a choice  of  the  one 
which  promises  best;  and  through  the  consequent  influx  into 
trades  that  are  at  the  time  most  profitable,  and  the  withholding 
of  recruits  from  overstocked  trades,  there  is  insured  a general 
equipoise  between  the  power  of  each  social  organ  and  the  func- 
tion it  has  to  perform. 

The  various  industrial  actions  and  reactions  thus  contin- 
ually alternating,  constitute  a dependent  moving  equilibrium 
like  that  which  is  maintained  among  the  functions  of  an  indi- 
vidual organism.  And  this  dependent  moving  equilibrium  par- 
allels those  already  contemplated,  in  its  tendency  to  become  more 
complete.  During  early  stages  of  social  evolution,  while  yet  the 
resources  of  the  locality  inhabited  are  unexplored,  and  the  arts  of 
production  undeveloped,  there  is  never  anything  more  than  a 
temporary  and  partial  balancing  of  such  actions,  under  the  form 
of  acceleration  or  retardation  of  growth.  But  when  a society 
approaches  the  maturity  of  that  type  on  which  it  is  organized, 
the  various  industrial  activities  settle  down  into  a comparatively 
constant  state.  Moreover,  it  is  observable  that  advance  in  organ- 
ization, as  well  as  advance  in  growth,  is  conducive  to  a better 
equilibrium  of  industrial  functions.  While  the  diffusion  of 
mercantile  information  is  slow,  and  the  means  of  transport  de- 
ficient, the  adjustment  of  supply  to  demand  is  extremely  im- 
perfect: great  overproduction  of  each  commodity  followed  by 
great  underproduction,  constitute  a rhythm  having  extremes  that 
depart  very  widely  from  the  mean  state  in  which  demand  and 
supply  are  equilibrated.  But  when  good  roads  are  made,  and 
there  is  a rapid  diffusion  of  printed  or  written  intelligence,  and 
still  more  when  railways  and  telegraphs  come  into  existence — ■ 
when  the  periodical  fairs  of  early  days  lapse  into  weekly  mar- 
kets, and  these  into  daily  markets;  there  is  gradually  produced 


EQUILIBRATION 


441 


a better  balance  of  production  and  consumption.  Extra  demand 
is  much  more  quickly  followed  by  augmented  supply;  and  the 
rapid  oscillations  of  price  within  narrow  limits  on  either  side  of 
a comparatively  uniform  mean  indicate  a near  approach  to  equi- 
librium. Evidently  this  industrial  progress  has  for  its  limit 
that  which  Mr.  Mill  has  called  “ the  stationary  state.”  When 
population  shall  have  become  dense  over  all  habitable  parts  of 
the  globe;  when  the  resources  of  every  region  have  been  fully 
explored;  and  when  the  productive  arts  admit  of  no  further 
improvements;  there  must  result  an  almost  complete  balance, 
both  between  the  fertility  and  mortality  of  each  society,  and  be- 
tween its  producing  and  consuming  activities.  Each  society 
will  exhibit  only  minor  deviations  from  its  average  number,  and 
the  rhythm  of  its  industrial  functions  will  go  on  from  day  to 
day  and  year  to  year  with  comparatively  insignificant  perturba- 
tions. This  limit,  however,  though  we  are  inevitably  advancing 
toward  it,  is  indefinitely  remote;  and  can  never  indeed  be  abso- 
lutely reached.  The  peopling  of  the  Earth  up  to  the  point  sup- 
posed cannot  take  place  by  simple  spreading.  In  the  future,  as 
in  the  past,  the  process  will  be  carried  on  rhythmically,  by  waves 
of  emigration  from  new  and  higher  centres  of  civilization  suc- 
cessively arising;  and  by  the  supplanting  of  inferior  races  by 
the  superior  races  they  beget ; and  the  process  so  carried  on  must 
be  extremely  slow.  Nor  does  it  seem  to  me  that  such  an  equi- 
libration will,  as  Mr.  Mill  suggests,  leave  scope  for  further 
mental  culture  and  moral  progress;  but  rather  that  the  ap- 
proximation to  it  must  be  simultaneous  with  the  approximation 
to  complete  equilibrium  between  man’s  nature  and  the  conditions 
of  his  existence. 

One  other  kind  of  social  equilibration  has  still  to  be  con- 
sidered : — that  which  results  in  the  establishment  of  govern- 
mental institutions,  and  which  becomes  complete  as  these  institu- 
tions fall  into  harmony  with  the  desires  of  the  people.  There  is 
a demand  and  supply  in  political  affairs  as  in  industrial  affairs; 
and  in  the  one  ease  as  in  the  other,  the  antagonist  forces  produce 
a rhythm  which,  at  first  extreme  in  its  oscillations,  slowly  settles 
down  into  a moving  equilibrium  of  comparative  regularity. 
Those  aggressive  impulses  inherited  from  the  pre-social  state  — 
those  tendencies  to  seek  self-satisfaction  regardless  of  injury  to 
other  beings,  which  are  essential  to  a predatory  life,  constitute 


442 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


an  anti-social  force,  tending  ever  to  cause  conflict  and  eventual 
separation  of  citizens.  Contrariwise,  those  desires  whose  ends 
can  be  achieved  only  by  union,  as  well  as  those  sentiments  which 
find  satisfaction  through  intercourse  with  fellow  men,  and  those 
resulting  in  what  we  call  loyalty,  are  forces  tending  to  keep  the 
units  of  a society  together.  On  the  one  hand,  there  is  in  each 
citizen  more  or  less  of  resistance  against  all  restraints  imposed 
on  his  actions  by  other  citizens : a resistance  which,  tending  con- 
tinually to  widen  each  individual’s  sphere  of  action,  and 
reciprocally  to  limit  the  spheres  of  action  of  other  individuals, 
constitutes  a repulsive  force  mutually  exercised  by  the  members 
of  a social  aggregate.  On  the  other  hand,  the  general  sympathy  of 
man  for  man,  and  the  more  special  sympathy  of  each  variety 
of  man  for  others  of  the  same  variety,  together  with  sundry  al- 
lied feelings  which  the  social  state  gratifies,  act  as  an  attractive 
force,  tending  ever  to  keep  united  those  who  have  a common 
ancestry.  And  since  the  resistances  to  be  overcome  in  satisfying 
the  totality  of  their  desires  when  living  separately,  are  greater 
than  the  resistances  to  be  overcome  in  satisfying  the  totality  of 
their  desires  when  living  together,  there  is  a residuary  force 
that  prevents  their  separation.  Like  all  other  opposing  forces, 
those  exerted  by  citizens  on  each  other  are  ever  producing  alter- 
nating movements,  which,  at  first  extreme,  undergo  a gradual 
diminution  on  the  way  to  ultimate  equilibrium.  In  small,  un- 
developed societies,  marked  rhythms  result  from  these  con- 
flicting tendencies.  A tribe  whose  members  have  held  together 
for  a generation  or  two,  reaches  a size  at  which  it  will  not  hold 
together;  and  on  the  occurrence  of  some  event  causing  unusual 
antagonism  among  its  members,  divides.  Each  primitive  na- 
tion, depending  largely  for  its  continued  union  on  the  character 
of  its  chief,  exhibits  wide  oscillations  between  an  extreme  in 
which  the  subjects  are  under  rigid  restraint,  and  an  extreme  in 
which  the  restraint  is  not  enough  to  prevent  disorder.  In  more 
advanced  nations  of  like  type,  we  always  find  violent  actions  and 
reactions  of  the  same  essential  nature  — “ despotism  tempered  by 
assassination,”  characterizing  a political  state  in  which  unbear- 
able repression  from  time  to  time  brings  about  a bursting  of  all 
bonds.  In  this  familiar  fact,  that  a period  of  tyranny  is  fol- 
lowed by  a period  of  license  and  vice  versa,  we  see  how  these 
opposing  forces  are  ever  equilibrating  each  other;  and  we  also 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


443 


see,  in  the  tendency  of  such  movements  and  counter-movements 
to  become  more  moderate,  how  the  equilibration  progresses  to- 
ward completeness.  The  conflicts  between  Conservatism  (which 
stands  for  the  restraints  of  society  over  the  individual)  and  Ke- 
form  (which  stands  for  the  liberty  of  the  individual  against 
society),  fall  within  slowly  approximating  limits;  so  that  the 
temporary  predominance  of  either  produces  a less  marked  de- 
viation from  the  medium  state.  This  process,  now  so  far  ad- 
vanced among  ourselves  that  the  oscillations  are  comparatively 
unobtrusive,  must  go  on  till  the  balance  between  the  antagonist 
forces  approaches  indefinitely  near  perfection.  Tor,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  the  adaptation  of  man’s  nature  to  the  conditions 
of  his  existence  cannot  cease  imtil  the  internal  forces  which  we 
know  as  feelings  are  in  equilibrium  with  the  external  forces  they 
encounter.  And  the  establishment  of  this  equilibrium  is  the 
arrival  at  a state  of  human  nature  and  social  organization,  such 
that  the  individual  has  no  desires  but  those  which  may  be  sat- 
isfied without  exceeding  his  proper  sphere  of  action,  while  so- 
ciety maintains  no  restraints  but  those  which  the  individual 
voluntarily  respects.  The  progressive  extension  of  the  liberty  of 
citizens,  and  the  reciprocal  removal  of  political  restrictions,  are 
the  steps  by  which  we  advance  toward  this  state.  And  the  ulti- 
mate abolition  of  all  limits  to  the  freedom  of  each,  save  those 
imposed  by  the  like  freedom  of  all,  must  result  from  the  com- 
plete equilibration  between  man’s  desires  and  the  conduct  neces- 
sitated by  surrounding  conditions. 

Of  course  in  this  ease,  as  in  the  preceding  ones,  there  is  thus 
involved  a limit  to  the  increase  of  heterogeneity.  A few  pages 
back,  we  reached  the  conclusion  that  each  advance  in  mental 
evolution,  is  the  establishment  of  some  further  internal  action, 
corresponding  to  some  further  external  action  — some  additional 
connection  of  ideas  or  feelings,  answering  to  some  before  un- 
known or  unantagonized  connections  of  phenomena.  We  infer- 
red that  each  such  new  function,  involving  some  new  modifica- 
tion of  structure,  implies  an  increase  of  heterogeneity ; and  that 
thus,  increase  of  heterogeneity  must  go  on,  while  there  remain 
any  outer  relations  affecting  the  organism  which  are  unbalanced 
by  inner  relations.  Whence  we  saw  it  to  follow  that  increase  of 
heterogeneity  can  come  to  an  end  only  as  equilibration  is  com- 
pleted. Evidently  the  like  must  simultaneous^  take  place  with 


444 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


society.  Each  increment  of  heterogeneity  in  the  individual 
must  directly  or  indirectly  involve,  as  cause  or  consequence,  some 
increment  of  heterogeneity  in  the  arrangements  of  the  aggregate 
of  individuals.  And  the  limit  to  social  complexity  can  be  ar- 
rived at  only  with  the  establishment  of  the  equilibrium,  just  de- 
scribed, between  social  and  individual  forces. 

§ 176.  Here  presents  itself  a final  question,  which  has  prob- 
ably been  taking  a more  or  less  distinct  shape  in  the  minds  of 
many,  while  reading  this  chapter.  “ If  Evolution  of  every  kind 
is  an  increase  in  complexity  of  structure  and  function  that  is 
incidental  to  the  universal  process  of  equilibration,  and  if  equi- 
libration must  end  in  complete  rest;  what  is  the  fate  toward 
which  all  things  tend  ? If  the  Solar  System  is  slowly  dissipat- 
ing its  forces  — if  the  Sun  is  losing  his  heat  at  a rate  which  will 
tell  in  millions  of  years  — if  with  diminution  of  the  Sun’s 
radiations  there  must  go  on  a diminution  in  the  activity  of 
geologic  and  meteorologic  processes  as  well  as  in  the  quantity  of 
vegetal  and  animal  existence  — if  Man  and  Society  are  similarly 
dependent  on  this  supply  of  force  that  is  gradually  coming  to  an 
end;  are  we  not  manifestly  progressing  toward  omnipresent 
death  ? ” 

That  such  a state  must  be  the  outcome  of  the  processes  every- 
where going  on,  seems  beyond  doubt.  Whether  any  ulterior 
process  may  reverse  these  changes,  and  initiate  a new  life,  is  a 
question  to  be  considered  hereafter.  For  the  present  it  must 
suffice  that  the  proximate  end  of  all  the  transformations  we  have 
traced  is  a state  of  quiescence.  This  admits  of  a priori  proof. 
It  will  soon  become  apparent  that  the  law  of  equilibration,  not 
less  than  the  preceding  general  laws,  is  cleducible  from  the  per- 
sistence of  force. 

We  have  seen  (§  74)  that  phenomena  are  interpretable  only 
as  the  results  of  universally-eoexistent  forces  of  attraction  and 
repulsion.  These  universally-eoexistent  forces  of  attraction  and 
repulsion,  are,  indeed,  the  complementary  aspects  of  that  abso- 
lutely persistent  force  which  is  the  ultimate  datum  of  conscious- 
ness. Just  in  the  same  way  that  the  equality  of  action  and 
reaction  is  a corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force,  since  their 
inequality  would  imply  the  disappearance  of  the  differential  force 
into  nothing,  or  its  appearance  out  of  nothing;  so,  we  cannot  be- 


EQUILIBRATION 


445 


come  conscious  of  an  attractive  force  without  becoming  simul- 
taneously conscious  of  an  equal  and  opposite  repulsive  force. 
For  every  experience  of  a muscular  tension  (under  which  form 
alone  we  can  immediately  know  an  attractive  force),  presup- 
poses an  equivalent  resistance  — a resistance  shown  in  the  coun- 
terbalancing pressure  of  the  body  against  neighboring  objects, 
or  in  that  absorption  of  force  which  gives  motion  to  the  body, 
or  in  both  — a resistance  which  we  cannot  conceive  as  other 
than  equal  to  the  tension,  without  conceiving  force  to  have 
either  appeared  or  disappeared,  and  so  denying  the  persistence 
of  force.  And  from  this  necessary  correlation  results  our  inabil- 
ity, before  pointed  cut,  of  interpreting  any  phenomena  save  in 
terms  of  these  correlatives  — an  inability  shown  alike  in  the 
compulsion  we  are  under  to  think  of  the  statical  forces  which 
tangible  matter  displays,  as  due  to  the  attraction  and  repulsion 
of  its  atoms,  and  in  the  compulsion  we  are  under  to  think  of 
dynamical  forces  exercised  through  space,  by  regarding  space 
as  filled  with  atoms  similarly  endowed.  Thus  from  the  existence 
of  a force  that  is  forever  unchangeable  in  quantity,  there  fol- 
lows, as  a necessary  corollary,  the  co-extensive  existence  of 
these  opposite  forms  of  force  — forms  under  which  the  condi- 
tions of  our  consciousness  oblige  us  to  represent  that  absolute 
force  which  transcends  our  knowledge. 

But  the  forces  of  attraction  and  repulsion  being  universally 
co-existent,  it  follows,  as  before  shown,  that  all  motion  is 
motion  under  resistance.  Units  of  matter,  solid,  liquid,  aeri- 
form, or  ethereal,  filling  the  space  which  any  moving  body 
traverses,  offer  to  such  body  the  resistance  consequent  on  their 
cohesion,  or  their  inertia,  or  both.  In  other  words,  the  denser 
or  rarer  medium  which  occupies  the  places  from  moment  to 
moment  passed  through  by  such  moving  body,  having  to  be 
expelled  from  them,  as  much  motion  is  abstracted  from  the 
moving  body  as  is  given  to  the  medium  in  expelling  it  from 
these  places.  This  being  the  condition  under  which  all  mo- 
tion occurs,  two  corollaries  result.  The  first  is,  that  the  deduc- 
tions perpetually  made  by  the  communication  of  motion  to 
the  resisting  medium,  cannot  but  bring  the  motion  of  the 
body  to  an  end  in  a longer  or  shorter  time.  The  second  is, 
that  the  motion  of  the  body  cannot  cease  until  these  deductions 
destroy  it.  In  other  words,  movement  must  continue  till  equili- 


446 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


bration  takes  place;  and  equilibration  must  eventually  take 
place.  Both  these  are  manifest  deductions  from  the  persistence 
of  force.  To  say  that  the  whole  or  part  of  a body’s  motion 
can  disappear,  save  by  transfer  to  something  which  resists  its 
motion,  is  to  say  that  the  whole  or  part  of  its  motion  can’  dis- 
appear without  effect;  which  is  to  deny  the  persistence  of 
force.  Conversely,  to  say  that  the  medium  traversed  can  be 
moved  out  of  the  body’s  path,  without  deducting  from  the 
body’s  motion,  is  to  say  that  motion  of  the  medium  can  arise 
out  of  nothing;  which  is  to  deny  the  persistence  of  force. 
Hence  this  primordial  truth  is  our  immediate  warrant  for  the 
conclusions,  that  the  changes  which  Evolution  presents  cannot 
end  until  equilibrium  is  reached,  and  that  equilibrium  must  at 
last  be  reached. 

Equally  necessary,  because  equally  deducible  from  this  same 
truth  that  transcends  proof,  are  the  foregoing  propositions 
respecting  the  establishment  and  maintenance  of  moving  equi- 
libria, under  their  several  aspects.  It  follows  from  the  per- 
sistence of  force,  that  the  various  motions  possessed  by  any 
aggregate,  either  as  a whole  or  among  its  parts,  must  be  severally 
dissipated  by  the  resistances  they  severally  encounter;  and  that 
thus,  such  of  them  as  are  least  in  amount,  or  meet  with  greatest 
opposition,  or  both,  will  be  brought  to  a close  while  'the  others 
continue.  Hence  in  every  diversely  moving  aggregate,  there 
results  a comparatively  early  dissipation  of  motions  which  are 
smaller  and  much  resisted ; followed  by  long-continuance  of  the 
larger  and  less-resisted  motions;  and  so  there  arise  dependent 
and  independent  moving  equilibria.  Hence  also  may  be  in- 
ferred the  tendency  to  conservation  of  such  moving  equilibria. 
For  the  new  motion  given  to  the  parts  of  a moving  equilibrium 
by  a disturbing  force,  must  either  be  of  such  kind  and  amount 
that  it  cannot  be  dissipated  before  the  pre-existing  motions,  in 
which  case  it  brings  the  moving  equilibrium  to  an  end ; or 
else  it  must  be  of  such  kind  and  amount  that  it  can  be  dissi- 
pated before  the  pre-existing  motions,  in  which  ease  the  mov- 
ing equilibrium  is  re-established. 

Thus  from  the  persistence  of  force  follow,  not  only  the 
various  direct  and  indirect  equilibrations  going  on  around, 
together  with  that  eosmical  equilibration  which  brings  Evolu- 
tion under  all  its  forms  to  a close;  but  also  those  less  manifest 


EQUILIBRATION 


44- 


equilibrations  shown  in  the  readjustments  of  moving  equilibria 
that  have  been  disturbed.  By  this  ultimate  principle  is  prov- 
able the  tendency  of  every  organism,  disordered  by  some  unusual 
influence,  to  return  to  a balanced  state.  To  it  also  may  be 
traced  the  capacity,  possessed  in  a slight  degree  by  individuals, 
and  in  a greater  degree  by  species,  of  becoming  adapted  to  new 
circumstances.  And  not  less  does  it  afford  a basis  for  the 
inference,  that  there  is  a gradual  advance  toward  harmony 
between  man’s  mental  nature  and  the  conditions  of  his  exist- 
ence. After  finding  that  from  it  are  deducible  the  various 
characteristics  of  Evolution,  we  finally  draw  from  it  a warrant 
for  the  belief,  that  Evolution  can  end  only  in  the  establish- 
ment of  the  greatest  perfection  and  the  most  complete  hap- 
piness. 


448 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

DISSOLUTION. 

§ 177.  When,  in  Chapter  XII.,  we  glanced  at  the  cycle 
of  changes  through  which  every  existence  passes,  in  its  progress 
from  the  imperceptible  to  the  perceptible  and  again  from 
the  perceptible  to  the  imperceptible- — when  these  opposite  re- 
distributions of  matter  and  motion  were  severally  distinguished 
as  Evolution  and  Dissolution ; the  natures  of  the  two,  and  the 
conditions  under  which  they  respectively  occur,  were  specified 
in  general  terms.  Since  then,  we  have  contemplated  the  phe- 
nomena of  Evolution  in  detail ; and  have  followed  them  out  to 
those  states  of  equilibrium  in  which  they  all  end.  To  complete 
the  argument  we  must  now  contemplate,  somewhat  more  in  de- 
tail than  before,  the  complementary  phenomena  of  Dissolution. 
Not,  indeed,  that  we  need  dwell  long  on  Dissolution,  which  has 
none  of  those  various  and  interesting  aspects  which  Evolution 
presents;  but  something  more  must  be  said  than  has  yet  been 
said. 

It  was  shown  that  neither  of  these  two  antagonist  processes 
ever  goes  on  absolutely  unqualified  by  the  other;  and  that  a 
change  toward  either  is  a differential  result  of  the  conflict 
between  them.  An  evolving  aggregate,  while  on  the  average 
losing  motion  and  integrating,  is  always,  in  one  way  or  other, 
receiving  some  motion  and  to  that  extent  disintegrating;  and 
after  the  integrative  changes  have  ceased  to  predominate,  the 
reception  of  motion,  though  perpetually  checked  by  its  dissipa- 
tion, constantly  tends  to  produce  a reverse  transformation, 
and  eventually  does  produce  it.  When  Evolution  has  run 
its  course  — when  the  aggregate  has  at  length  parted  with  its 
excess  of  motion,  and  habitually  receives  as  much  from  its 
environment  as  it  habitually  loses  — when  it  has  reached  that 
equilibrium  in  which  its  changes  end;  it  thereafter  remains  sub- 


DISSOLUTION 


449 


ject  to  all  actions  in  its  environment  which  may  increase  the 
quantity  of  motion  it  contains,  and  which  in  the  lapse  of  time 
are  sure,  either  slowly  or  suddenly,  to  give  its  parts  such  excess 
of  motion  as  will  cause  disintegration.  According  as  its  equi- 
librium is  a very  unstable  or  a very  stable  one,  its  dissolution 
may  come  quickly  or  may  be  indefinitely  delayed  — may  occur 
in  a few  days  or  may  be  postponed  for  millions  of  years. 
But  exposed  as  it  is  to  the  contingencies  not  simply  of  its 
immediate  neighborhood  but  of  a Universe  everywhere  in  mo- 
tion, the  period  must  at  last  come  when,  either  alone  or  in 
company  with  surrounding  aggregates,  it  has  its  parts  dis- 
persed. 

The  process  of  dissolution  so  caused  we  have  here  to  look 
at  as  it  takes  place  in  aggregates  of  different  orders.  The  course 
of  change  being  the  reverse  of  that  hitherto  traced,  we  may  prop- 
erly take  the  illustrations  of  it  in  the  reverse  order  — beginning 
with  the  most  complex  and  ending  with  the  most  simple. 

§ 178.  Eegarding  the  evolution  of  a society  as  at  once  an 
increase  in  the  number  of  individuals  integrated  into  a cor- 
porate body,  an  increase  in  the  masses  and  varieties  of  the 
parts  into  which  this  corporate  body  divides  as  well  as  of  the 
actions  called  their  functions,  and  an  increase  in  the  degree 
of  combination  among  these  masses  and  their  functions ; we  shall 
see  that  social  dissolution  conforms  to  the  general  law  in  being, 
materially  considered,  a disintegration,  and,  dynamically  con- 
sidered, a decrease  in  the  movements  of  wholes  and  an  increase 
in  the  movements  of  parts;  while  it  further  conforms  to  the 
general  law  in  being  caused  by  an  excess  of  motion  in  some 
way  or  other  received  from  without. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  social  dissolution  which  follows  the 
aggression  of  another  nation,  and  which,  as  history  shows 
us,  is  apt  to  occur  when  social  evolution  has  ended  and  decay 
has  begun,  is,  under  its  broadest  aspect,  the  incidence  of  a new 
external  motion;  and  when,  as  sometimes  happens,  the  con- 
quered society  is  dispersed,  its  dissolution  is  literally  a cessation 
of  those  corporate  movements  which  the  society,  both  in  its 
army  and  in  its  industrial  bodies,  presented,  and  a lapse  into 
individual  or  uncombined  movements  — the  motion  of  units 
replaces  the  motion  of  masses. 


450 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


It  cannot  be  questioned,  either,  that  when  plague  or  famine 
at  home,  or  a revolution  abroad,  gives  to  any  society  an  unusual 
shock  that  causes  disorder,  or  incipient  dissolution,  there  results 
a decrease  of  integrated  movements  and  an  increase  of  disinte- 
grated movements.  As  the  disorder  progresses,  the  political 
actions  previously  combined  under  one  government  become  un- 
combined : there  arise  the  antagonistic  actions  of  riot  or  revolt. 
Simultaneously,  the  industrial  and  commercial  processes  that 
were  co-ordinated  throughout  the  whole  body  politic,  are  broken 
up ; and  only  the  local,  or  small,  trading  transactions  continue. 
And  each  further  disorganizing  change  diminishes  the  joint 
operations  by  which  men  satisfy  their  wants,  and  leaves  them 
to  satisfy  their  wants,  so  far  as  they  can,  by  separate  operations. 
Of  the  way  in  which  such  disintegrations  are  liable  to  be  set 
up  in  a society  that  has  evolved  to  the  limit  of  its  type,  and 
reached  a state  of  moving  equilibrium,  a good  illustration  is 
furnished  by  Japan.  The  finished  fabric  into  which  its  people 
had  organized  themselves,  maintained  an  almost  constant  state 
so  long  as  it  was  preserved  from  fresh  external  forces.  But  as 
soon  as  it  received  an  impact  from  European  civilization,  partly 
by  armed  aggression,  partly  by  commercial  impulse,  partly  by 
the  influence  of  ideas,  this  fabric  began  to  fall  to  pieces.  There 
is  now  in  progress  a political  dissolution.  Probably  a political 
reorganization  wrill  follow;  but,  be  this  as  it  may,  the  change 
thus  far  produced  by  an  outer  action  is  a change  toward  dissolu- 
tion — a change  from  integrated  motions  to  disintegrated 
motions. 

Even  where  a society  that  has  developed  into  the  highest  form 
permitted  by  the  characters  of  its  units,  begins  thereafter  to 
dwindle  and  decay,  the  progressive  dissolution  is  still  essen- 
tially of  the  same  nature.  Decline  of  numbers  is,  in  such  case, 
brought  about  partly  by  emigration ; for  a society  having  the 
fixed  structure  in  which  evolution  ends,  is  necessarily  one  that 
will  not  yield  and  modify  under  pressure  of  population:  so 
long  as  its  structure  will  yield  and  modify,  it  is  still  evolving. 
Hence  the  surplus  population  continually  produced,  not  held 
together  by  an  organization  that  adapts  itself  to  an  augmenting 
number,  is  continually  dispersed : the  influences  brought  to  bear 
on  the  citizens  by  other  societies,  cause  their  detachment,  and 
there  is  an  increase  in  the  uncombined  motions  of  units  instead 


DISSOLUTION 


451 


of  an  increase  of  combined  motions.  Gradually  as  rigidity 
becomes  greater,  and  the  society  becomes  still  less  capable  of 
being  remolded  into  the  form  required  for  successful  competition 
with  growing  and  more  plastic  societies,  the  number  of  citizens 
who  can  live  within  its  unyielding  framework  becomes  positively 
smaller.  Hence  it  dwindles  both  through  continued  emigration 
and  through,  the  diminished  multiplication  that  follows  innutri- 
tion. And  this  further  dwindling  or  dissolution,  caused  by  the 
number  of  those  who  die  becoming  greater  than  the  number  of 
those  who  survive  long  enough  to  rear  offspring,  is  similarly  a 
decrease  in  the  total  quantity  of  combined  motion  and  an  in- 
crease in  the  quantity  of  uncombined  motion  — as  we  shall 
presently  see  when  we  come  to  deal  with  individual  dissolution. 

Considering,  then,  that  social  aggregates  differ  so  much  from 
aggregates  of  other  kinds,  formed  as  they  are  of  units  held  to- 
gether loosely  and  indirectly,  in  such  variable  ways  by  such 
complex  forces,  the  process  of  dissolution  among  them  conforms 
to  the  general  law  quite  as  clearly  as  could  be  expected. 

§ 179.  When  from  these  super-organic  aggregates  we  descend 
to  organic  aggregates,  the  truth  that  Dissolution  is  a disintegra- 
tion of  matter,  caused  by  the  reception  of  additional  motion  from 
without,  becomes  easily  demonstrable.  We  will  look  first  at  the 
transformation  and  afterward  at  its  cause. 

Death,  or  that  final  equilibration  which  precedes  dissolution 
is  the  bringing  to  a close  of  all  those  conspicuous  integrated 
motions  that  arose  during  evolution.  The  impulsions  of  the 
body  from  place  to  place  first  cease;  presently  the  limbs  cannot 
be  stirred ; later  still  the  respiratory  actions  stop ; finally  the 
heart  becomes  stationary,  and,  with  it,  the  circulating  fluids. 
That  is,  the  transformation  of  molecular  motion  into  the  motion 
of  masses,  comes  to  an  end ; and  each  of  these  motions  of  masses, 
as  it  ends,  disappears  into  molecular  motions.  What  next  takes 
place  ? We  cannot  say  that  there  is  any  further  transformation 
of  sensible  movements  into  insensible  movements;  for  sensible 
movements  no  longer  exist.  Nevertheless,  the  process  of  decay 
involves  an  increase  of  insensible  movements;  since  these  are 
far  greater  in  the  gases  generated  by  decomposition,  than  they 
are  in  the  fluid-solid  matters  out  of  which  the  gases  arise.  Each 
of  the  complex  chemical  units  composing  an  organic  body,  pos- 


452 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


sesses  a rhythmic  motion  in  which  its  many  component  units 
jointly  partake.  When  decomposition  breaks  up  these  complex 
molecules,  and  their  constituents  assume  gaseous  forms,  there 
is,  besides  that  increase  of  motion  implied  by  the  diffusion,  a 
resolution  of  such  motions  as  the  aggregate  molecules  possessed, 
into  motions  of  their  constituent  molecules.  So  that  in  organic 
dissolution  we  have,  first,  an  end  put  to  that  transformation 
of  the  motion  of  units  into  the  motion  of  aggregates,  which 
constitutes  evolution,  dynamically  considered ; and  we  have 
also,  though  in  a subtler  sense,  a transformation  of  the  motion 
of  aggregates  into  the  motion  of  units.  Still  it  is  not  thus 
shown  that  organic  dissolution  fully  answers  to  the  general 
definition  of  dissolution  — the  absorption  of  motion  and  con- 
comitant disintegration  of  matter.  The  disintegration  of  mat- 
ter, is,  indeed,  conspicuous  enough ; but  the  absorption  of 
motion  is  not  conspicuous.  True,  the  fact  that  motion  has 
been  absorbed  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  the  particles 
previously  integrated  into  a solid  mass,  occupying  a small 
space,  have  most  of  them  moved  away  from  one  another  and 
now  occupy  a great  space;  for  the  motion  implied  by  this  trans- 
position must  have  been  obtained  from  somewhere.  But  its 
source  is  not  obvious.  A little  search,  however,  will  bring  us  to 
its  derivation. 

At  a temperature  below  the  freezing-point  of  water,  decom- 
position of  organic  matter  does  not  take  place  — the  integrated 
motions  of  the  highly  integrated  molecules  are  not  resolved  into 
the  disintegrated  motions  of  their  component  molecules.  Dead 
bodies  kept  at  this  temperature  are  prevented  from  decom- 
posing for  an  indefinitely  long  period : witness  the  frozen 
carcasses  of  Mammoths  — Elephants  of  a species  long  ago 
extinct- — That  are  found  imbedded  in  the  ice  at  the  mouths 
of  Siberian  rivers;  and  which,  though  they  have  been 
there  for  many  thousand  of  years,  have  flesh  so  fresh  that 
when  at  length  exposed,  it  is  devoured  by  wolves.  What 
now  is  the  meaning  of  such  exceptional  preservations?  A 
body  kept  below  freezing-point  is  a body  which  receives  very 
little  heat  by  radiation  or  conduction;  and  the  reception  of 
but  little  heat  is  the  reception  of  but  little  molecular  motion. 
That  is  to  say,  in  an  environment  which  does  not  furnish  it 
with  molecular  motion  passing  a certain  amount,  an  organic 


DISSOLUTION 


453 


body  does  not  undergo  dissolution.  Confirmatory  evidence  is 
yielded  by  the  variations  in  rate  of  dissolution  which  accom- 
pany variations  of  temperature.  All  know  that  in  cool  weather 
the  organic  substances  used  in  our  households  keep  longer,  as 
we  say,  than  in  hot  weather.  Equally  certain,  if  less  familiar, 
is  the  fact  that  in  tropical  climates  decay  proceeds  much  more 
rapidly  than  in  temperate  climates.  Thus,  in  proportion  as 
the  molecular  motion  of  surrounding  matter  is  great,  the  dead 
organism  receives  an  abundant  supply  of  motion  to  replace 
the  motion  continually  taken  up  by  the  dispersing  molecules 
of  the  gases  into  which  it  is  being  disintegrated.  The  still 
quicker  decompositions  produced  by  exposure  to  artificially- 
raised  temperatures,  afford  further  proofs;  as  instance  those 
which  occur  in  cooking.  The  charred  surfaces  of  parts  that 
have  been  much  heated  show  us  that  the  molecular  motion 
absorbed  has  served  to  dissipate  in  gaseous  forms  all  the  ele- 
ments but  the  carbon. 

The  nature  and  cause  of  Dissolution  are  thus  clearly  dis- 
played by  the  aggregates  which  so  clearly  display  the  nature 
and  cause  of  Evolution.  One  of  these  aggregates  being  com- 
posed of  that  peculiar  matter  to  which  a large  quantity  of 
constitutional  motion  gives  great  plasticity,  and  the  ability 
to  evolve  into  a highly  compound  form  (§  103)  ; we  see  that 
after  evolution  has  ceased,  a very  moderate  amount  of  molec- 
ular motion,  added  to  that  already  locked  up  in  its  peculiar 
matter,  suffices  to  cause  dissolution.  Though  at  death  there 
is  reached  a stable  equilibrium  among  the  sensible  masses,  or 
organs,  which  make  up  the  body;  yet,  as  the  insensible  units 
or  molecules  of  which  these  organs  consist  are  in  unstable 
equilibrium,  small  incident  forces  suffice  to  overthrow  them, 
and  hence  disintegration  proceeds  rapidly. 

§ 180.  Most  inorganic  aggregates,  having  arrived  at  dense 
forms  in  which  comparatively  little  motion  is  retained,  remain 
long  without  marked  changes.  Each  has  lost  so  much  motion 
in  passing  from  the  disintegrated  to  the  integrated  state, 
that  much  motion  must  be  given  to  it  to  cause  resumption 
of  the  disintegrated  state;  and  an  immense  time  may  elapse 
before  there  occur  in  the  environment  changes  great  enough 
to  communicate  to  it  the  requisite  quantity  of  motion.  We 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


4">4 


will  look  first  at  those  exceptional  inorganic  aggregates  which 
retain  much  motion,  and  therefore  readily  undergo  dissolution. 

Among  these  are  the  liquids  and  volatile  solids  which  dis- 
sipate under  ordinary  conditions  — water  that  evaporates,  car- 
bonate of  ammonia  that  wastes  away  by  the  dispersion  of  its 
molecules.  In  all  such  cases  motion  is  absorbed;  and  always 
the  dissolution  is  rapid  in  proportion  as  the  quantity  of  heat 
or  motion  which  the  aggregated  mass  receives  from  its  environ- 
ment is  great.  Next  come  the  cases  in  which  the  molecules  of 
a highly  integrated  or  solid  aggregate  are  dispersed  among  the 
molecules  of  a less  integrated  or  liquid  aggregate ; as  in  aqueous 
solutions.  One  evidence  that  this  disintegration  of  matter  has 
for  its  concomitant  the  absorption  of  motion,  is  that  soluble 
substances  dissolve  the  more  quickly  the  hotter  the  water: 
supposing  always  that  no  elective  affinity  comes  into  play.  An- 
other and  still  more  conclusive  evidence  is,  that  when  crystals 
of  a given  temperature  are  placed  in  water  of  the  same  tem- 
perature, the  process  of  solution  is  accompanied  by  a fall  of 
temperature — often  a very  great  one.  Omitting  instances  in 
which  some  chemical  action  takes  place  between  the  salt  and 
the  water,  it  is  a uniform  law  that  the  motion  which  disperses 
the  molecules  of  the  salt  through  the  water,  is  at  the  expense 
of  the  molecular  motion  possessed  by  the  water. 

Masses  of  sediment  accumulated  into  strata,  afterward  com- 
pressed by  many  thousands  of  feet  of  superincumbent  strata, 
and  reduced  in  course  of  time  to  a solid  state,  may  remain 
for  millions  of  years  unchanged;  but  in  subsequent  millions  of 
years  they  are  inevitably  exposed  to  disintegrating  actions. 
Raised  along  with  other  such  masses  into  a continent,  denuded 
and  exposed  to  rain,  frost,  and  the  grinding  actions  of  glaciers, 
they  have  their  particles  gradually  separated,  carried  away, 
and  widely  dispersed.  Or  when,  as  otherwise  happens,  the 
encroaching  sea  readies  them,  the  undermined  cliffs  which 
they  form  fall  from  time  to  time,  breaking  into  fragments  of 
all  sizes ; the  waves,  rolling  about  the  small  pieces,  and  in 
storms  turning  over  and  knocking  together  the  larger  blocks, 
reduce  them  to  boulders  and  pebbles,  and  at  last  to  sand  and 
mud.  Even  if  portions  of  the  disintegrated  strata  accumulate 
into  shingle  banks,  which  afterward  become  solidified,  the 
process  of  dissolution,  arrested  though  it  may  be  for  some 


DISSOLUTION 


455 


enormous  geologic  period,  is  finally  resumed.  As  many  a 
shore  shows  us,  the  conglomerate  itself  is  sooner  or  later  subject 
to  the  like  processes;  and  its  cemented  masses  of  heterogeneous 
components,  lying  on  the  beach,  are  broken  up  and  worn  away 
by  impact  and  attrition  — that  is,  by  communicated  mechanical 
motion. 

When  not  thus  effected,  the  disintegration  is  effected  by 
communicated  molecular  motion.  The  consolidated  stratum, 
located  in  some  area  of  subsidence,  and  brought  down  nearer 
and  nearer  to  the  regions  occupied  by  molten  matter,  comes 
eventually  to  have  its  particles  brought  to  a plastic  state  by 
heat,  or  finally  melted  down  into  liquid.  Whatever  may  be 
its  subsequent  transformations,  the  transformation  then  ex- 
hibited by  it  is  an  absorption  of  motion  and  disintegration  of 
matter. 

Be  it  simple  or  compound,  small  or  large,  a crystal  or  a 
mountain-chain,  every  inorganic  aggregate  on  the  Earth,  thus, 
at  some  time  or  other,  undergoes  a reversal  of  those  changes 
undergone  during  its  evolution.  Not  that  it  usually  passes 
back  completely  from  the  perceptible  into  the  imperceptible ; 
as  organic  aggregates  do  in  great  part,  if  not  wholly.  But 
still  its  disintegration  and  dispersion  carry  it  some  distance 
on  the  way  toward  the  imperceptible;  and  there  are  reasons 
for  thinking  that  its  arrival  there  is  but  delayed.  At  a period 
immeasurably  remote,  every  such  inorganic  aggregate,  along 
with  all  undissipated  remnants  of  organic  aggregates,  must 
be  reduced  to  a state  of  gaseous  diffusion,  and  so  complete 
the  cycle  of  its  changes. 

§ 181.  For  the  Earth  as  a whole,  when  it  has  gone  through 
the  entire  series  of  its  ascending  transformations,  must  remain, 
like  all  smaller  aggregates,  exposed  to  the  contingencies  of  its 
environment;  and  in  the  course  of  those  ceaseless  changes  in 
progress  throughout  a Universe  of  which  all  parts  are  in  motion, 
must,  at  some  period  beyond  the  utmost  stretch  of  imagination, 
be  subject  to  forces  sufficient  to  cause  its  complete  disintegration. 
Let  us  glance  at  the  forces  competent  to  disintegrate  it. 

In  his  essay  on  “ The  Inter-action  of  Natural  Forces,”  Pro- 
fessor Helmholtz  states  the  thermal  equivalent  of  the  Earth’s 
movement  through  space  as  calculated  on  the  now  received  datum 


450 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


of  Mr.  Joule.  “If  our  Earth,”  he  says,  “were  by  a sudden 
shock  brought  to  rest  in  her  orbit  — which  is  not  to  be  feared 
in  the  existing  arrangement  of  our  system  — by  such  a shock 
a quantity  of  heat  would  be  generated  equal  to  that  produced  by 
the  combustion  of  fourteen  such  Earths  of  solid  coal.  Making 
the  most  unfavorable  assumption  as  to  its  capacity  for  heat, 
that  is,  placing  it  equal  to  that  of  water,  the  mass  of  the  Earth 
would  thereby  be  heated  11,200  degrees;  it  would  therefore  be 
quite  fused,  and  for  the  most  part  reduced  to  vapor.  If  then 
the  Earth,  after  having  been  thus  brought  to  rest,  should  fall 
into  the  Sun,  which  of  course  would  be  the  case,  the  quantity  of 
heat  developed  by  the  shock  would  be  400  times  greater.”  Now 
though  this  calculation  seems  to  be  nothing  to  the  purpose,  since 
the  Earth  is  not  likely  to  be  suddenly  arrested  in  its  orbit 
and  not  likely  therefore  suddenly  to  fall  into  the  Sun;  yet, 
as  before  pointed  out  (§  171),  there  is  a force  at  work  which  it 
is  held  must  at  last  bring  the  Earth  into  the  Sun.  This  force 
is  the  resistance  of  the  ethereal  medium.  From  ethereal  resist- 
ance is  inferred  a retardation  of  all  moving  bodies  in  the  Solar 
System  — a retardation  which  certain  astronomers  contend  even 
now  shows  its  effects  in  the  relative  nearness  to  one  another  of 
the  orbits  of  the  older  planets.  If,  then,  retardation  is  going 
on,  there  must  come  a time,  no  matter  how  remote,  when  the 
slowly  diminishing  orbit  of  the  Earth  will  end  in  the  Sun ; and 
though  the  quantity  of  molar  motion  to  be  then  transformed 
into  molecular  motion,  will  not  be  so  great  as  that  which  the 
calculation  of  Helmholtz  supposes,  it  will  be  great  enough  to 
reduce'  the  substance  of  the  Earth  to  a gaseous  state. 

The  dissolution  of  the  Earth,  and,  at  intervals,  of  every 
other  planet,  is  not,  however,  a dissolution  of  the  Solar  System. 
Viewed  in  their  ensemble,  all  the  changes  exhibited  throughout 
the  Solar  System,  are  incidents  accompanying  the  integration 
of  the  entire  matter  composing  it:  the  local  integration  of 
which  each  planet  is  the  scene,  completing  itself  long  before 
the  general  integration  is  complete.  But  each  secondary  mass 
having  gone  through  its  evolution  and  reached  a state  of  equilib- 
rium among  its  parts,  thereafter  continues  in  its  extinct  state, 
until  by  the  still  progressing  general  integration  it  is  brought 
into  the  central  mass.  And  though  each  such  union  of  a sec- 
ondary mass  with  the  central  mass,  implying  transformation  of 


DISSOLUTION 


457 


molar  motion  into  molecular  motion,  causes  partial  diffusion  of 
the  total  mass  formed,  and  adds  to  the  quantity  of  motion  that 
has  to  be  dispersed  in  the  shape  of  light  and  heat;  yet  it  does 
but  postpone  the  period  at  which  the  total  mass  must  become 
completely  integrated,  and  its  excess  of  contained  motion 
radiated  into  space. 

1 § 182.  Here  we  come  to  the  question  raised  at  the  close  of 
the  last  chapter  — Does  Evolution  as  a whole,  like  Evolution 
in  detail,  advance  toward  complete  quiescence  ? Is  that  motion- 
less state  called  death,  which  ends  Evolution  in  organic  bodies, 
typical  of  the  universal  death  in  which  Evolution  at  large  must 
end?  And  have  we  thus  to  contemplate  as  the  outcome  of 
things,  a boundless  space  holding  here  and  there  extinct  suns, 
fated  to  remain  forever  without  further  change? 

To  so  speculative  an  inquiry,  none  but  a speculative  answer 
is  to  be  expected.  Such  answer  as  may  be  ventured,  must  be 
taken  less  as  a positive  answer  than  as  a demurrer  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  proximate  result  must  be  the  ultimate  result. 
If,  pushing  to  its  extreme  the  argument  that  Evolution  must 
come  to  a close  in  complete  equilibrium  or  rest,  the  reader  sug- 
gests that  for  aught  which  appears  to  the  contrary,  the  Universal 
Death  thus  implied  will  continue  indefinitely,  it  is  legitimate 
to  point  out  how,  on  carrying  the  argument  still  further,  we  are 
led  to  infer  a subsequent  Universal  Life.  Let  us  see  what  may 
be  assigned  as  grounds  for  inferring  this. 

It  has  been  already  shown  that  all  equilibration,  so  far  as 
we  can  trace  it,  is  relative.  The  dissipation  of  a body’s  motion 
by  communication  of  it  to  surrounding  matter,  solid,  liquid, 
gaseous,  and  ethereal,  brings  the  body  to  a fixed  position  in 
relation  to  the  matter  that  abstracts  its  motion.  But  all  its 
other  motions  continue.  Further,  this  motion,  the  disappearance 
of  which  causes  relative  equilibration,  is  not  lost  but  simply 
transferred.  Whether  it  is  directly  transformed  into  insensible 
motion,  as  happens  in  the  case  of  the  Sun;  or,  whether,  as  in 
the  sensible  motions  going  on  around  us,  it  is  directly  trans- 

1 Though  this  chapter  is  new,  this  section,  and  the  one  following  it, 
are  not  new.  In  the  first  edition  they  were  included  in  the  final  section 
of  the  foregoing  chapter.  While  substantially  the  same  as  before,  the 
argument  has  been  in  some  places  abbreviated  and  m other  places  en- 
forced by  additional  matter, 


45S 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


formed  into  smaller  sensible  motions,  and  these  into  still  smaller, 
until  they  become  insensible,  matters  not.  In  every  instance 
the  ultimate  result  is,  that  whatever  motion  of  masses  is  lost,  re- 
appears as  molecular  motion  pervading  space.  Thus  the  ques- 
tions we  have  to  consider,  are  — Whether  after  the  completion 
of  all  the  relative  equilibrations  which  bring  Evolution  to  a close, 
there  remain  any  further  equilibrations  to  be  effected  ? — • 
Whether  there  are  any  other  motions  of  masses  that  must  even- 
tually be  transformed  into  molecular  motion  ? — And  if  there  are 
such  other  motions,  what  must  be  the  consequence  when  the 
molecular  motion  generated  by  their  transformation  is  added  to 
that  which  already  exists? 

To  the  first  of  these  questions  the  answer  is,  that  there  do  re- 
main motions  which  are  undiminished  by  all  the  relative  equili- 
brations we  have  considered ; namely,  the  motions  of  translation 
possessed  by  those  vast  masses  of  matter  called  stars  — remote 
suns  that  are  probably,  like  our  own,  surrounded  by  circling 
groups  of  planets.  The  belief  that  the  stars  are  fixed,  has  long 
since  been  abandoned : observation  has  proved  many  of  them  to 
have  sensible  proper  motions.  Moreover,  it  has  been  ascertained 
by  measurement  that  in  relation  to  the  stars  nearest  to  us,  our 
own  star  travels  at  the  rate  of  about  half  a million  miles  per 
day ; and  if,  as  is  admitted  to  be  not  improbable,  our  own  star  is 
moving  in  the  same  direction  with  adjacent  stars,  its  absolute 
velocity  may  be,  and  most  likely  is,  immensely  greater  than  this. 
Now  no  such  changes  as  those  taking  place  within  the  Solar  Sys- 
tem, even  when  carried  to  the  extent  of  integrating  the  whole  of 
its  matter  into  one  mass,  and  diffusing  all  its  relative  motions 
in  an  insensible  form  through  space,  can  affect  these  sidereal 
motions.  Hence,  there  appears  no  alternative  but  to  infer  that 
they  must  remain  to  be  equilibrated  by  some  subsequent  process. 

The  next  question  that  arises  is  — To  what  law  do  sidereal  mo- 
tions conform?  And  to  this  question  Astronomy  replies  — the 
law  of  gravitation.  The  movements  of  binary  stars  have  proved 
this.  The  periodic  times  of  sundry  binary  stars  have  been  cal- 
culated on  the  assumption  that  their  revolutions  are  determined 
by  a force  like  that  which  regulates  the  revolutions  of  planets 
and  satellites;  and  the  subsequent  performances  of  their  revolu- 
tions in  the  predicted  periods  have  verified  the  assumption.  If, 
then,  these  remote  bodies  are  centres  of  gravitation  — if  we  infer 


DISSOLUTION 


459 


that  all  other  stars  are  centres  of  gravitation,  as  we  may  fairly 
do  — and  if  we  draw  the  unavoidable  corollary,  that  the  gravi- 
tative  force  which  so  conspicuously  affects  stars  that  are  near  one 
another,  also  affects  remote  stars ; we  must  conclude  that  all  the 
members  of  our  Sidereal  System  gravitate,  individually  and  col- 
lectively. 

But  if  these  widely  dispersed  moving  masses  mutually  gravi- 
tate, what  must  happen  ? There  appears  but  one  tenable  answer. 
They  cannot  preserve  their  present  arrangement : the  irregular 
distribution  of  our  Sidereal  System  being  such  as  to  render  even 
a temporary  moving  equilibrium  impossible.  If  the  stars  are 
centres  of  an  attractive  force  that  varies  inversely  as  the  square  of 
the  distance,  there  is  no  escape  from  the  inference  that  the  struc- 
ture of  our  galaxy  is  undergoing  change,  and  must  continue  to 
undergo  change. 

Thus,  in  the  absence  of  tenable  alternatives,  we  are  brought 
to  the  positions : — 1,  that  the  stars  are  in  motion ; 2,  that  they 
move  in  conformity  with  the  law  of  gravitation ; 3,  that,  dis- 
tributed as  they  are,  they  cannot  move  in  conformity  with  the 
law  of  gravitation  without  undergoing  rearrangement.  If  now 
we  ask  the  nature  of  this  rearrangement,  we  find  ourselves 
obliged  to  infer  a progressive  concentration.  Stars  at  present 
dispersed,  must  become  locally  aggregated ; existing  aggregations 
(excepting,  perhaps,  the  globular  clusters)  must  grow  more 
dense;  and  aggregations  must  coalesce  with  one  another.  That 
integration  has  been  progressing  throughout  past  eras  we  found 
to  be  indicated  by  the  structure  of  the  heavens,  in  general  and  in 
detail ; and  of  the  extent  to  which  it  has  in  some  places  already 
gone,  remarkable  instances  are  furnished  by  the  Magellanic 
clouds  — two  closely-packed  agglomerations,  not,  indeed,  of  sin- 
gle stars  only,  but  of  single  stars,  of  clusters  regular  and  irregu- 
lar, of  nebulae,  and  of  diffused  nebulosity.  That  these  have  been 
formed  by  mutual  gravitation  of  parts  once  widely  scattered 
there  is  evidence  in  the  barrenness  of  the  surrounding  celestial 
spaces : the  nubecula  minor,  especially,  being  seated,  as  Hum- 
boldt says,  in  “ a kind  of  starless  desert.” 

What  must  be  the  limit  of  such  concentrations  ? The  mutual 
attraction  of  two  stars,  when  it  so  far  predominates  over  other 
attractions  as  to  cause  approximation,  almost  certainly  ends  in 
the  formation  of  a binary  star;  since  the  motions  generated  by 


400 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


other  attractions  prevent  the  two  stars  from  moving  in  straight 
lines  to  their  common  centre  of  gravity.  Between  small  clusters, 
too,  having  also  certain  proper  motions  as  clusters,  mutual  at- 
traction may  lead,  not  to  complete  union,  but  to  the  formation  of 
binary  clusters.  As  the  process  continues,  however,  and  the  clus- 
ters become  larger,  they  must  move  more  directly  toward  each 
other : thus  forming  clusters  of  increasing  density.  While,  there- 
fore, during  the  earlier  stages  of  concentration,  the  probabilities 
are  immense  against  the  actual  contact  of  these  mutually-gravi- 
tating masses ; it  is  tolerably  manifest  that,  as  the  concentration 
increases,  collision  must  become  probable,  and  ultimately  cer- 
tain. This  is  an  inference  not  lacking  the  support  of  high  au- 
thority. Sir  John  Herschel,  treating  of  those  numerous  and 
variously-aggregated  clusters  of  stars  revealed  by  the  telescope, 
and  citing  with  apparent  approval  his  father’s  opinion,  that  the 
more  diffused  and  irregular  of  these,  are  “ globular  clusters  in  a 
less  advanced  state  of  condensation  ” ; subsequently  remarks,  that 
“ among  a crowd  of  solid  bodies  of  whatever  size,  animated  by 
independent  and  partially  opposing  impulses,  motions  opposite 
to  each  other  must  produce  collision,  destruction  of  velocity,  and 
subsidence  or  near  approach  toward  the  centre  of  preponderant 
attraction ; while  those  which  conspire,  or  which  remain  out- 
standing after  such  conflicts,  must  ultimately  give  rise  to  circu- 
lation of  a permanent  character.”  Now  what  is  here  alleged  of 
these  minor  clusters  cannot  be  denied  of  larger  clusters ; and’  thus 
the  above-inferred  process  of  concentration,  appears  certain  to 
bring  about  an  increasingly-frequent  integration  of  masses. 

We  have  next  to  consider  the  consequences  of  the  accompany- 
ing loss  of  velocity.  The  sensible  motion  which  disappears  can- 
not be  destroyed,  but  must  be  transformed  into  insensible  motion. 
What  will  be  the  effect  of  this  insensible  motion?  Already  we 
have  seen  that  were  the  Earth  arrested,  dissipation  of  its  sub- 
stance would  result.  And  if  so  relatively  small  a momentum 
as  that  acquired  by  the  Earth  in  falling  to  the  Sun,  would  be 
equivalent  to  a molecular  motion  sufficient  to  reduce  the  Earth 
to  gases  of  extreme  rarity;  what  must  be  the  molecular  motion 
generated  by  the  mutually-arrested  momenta  of  two  stars,  that 
have  moved  to  their  common  centre  of  .gravity  through  spaces 
immeasurably  greater?  There  seems  no  alternative  but  to  con- 
clude, that  it  would  be  great  enough  to  reduce  the  matter  of  the 


DISSOLUTION 


461 


stars  to  an  almost  inconceivable  tenuity  — a tenuity  like  that 
which  we  ascribe  to  nebular  matter.  Such  being  the  immediate 
effect,  what  would  be  the  ulterior  effect?  Sir  John  Herschel, 
in  the  passage  above  quoted,  describing  the  collisions  that  must 
arise  in  a concentrating  group  of  stars,  adds  that  those  stars 
“ which  remain  outstanding  after  such  conflicts  must  ultimately 
give  rise  to  circulation  of  a permanent  character.”  The  prob- 
lem, however,  is  here  dealt  with  purely  as  a mechanical  one : the 
assumption  being  that  the  mutually-arrested  masses  will  continue 
as  masses  — an  assumption  to  which  no  objection  appeared  at  the 
time  when  Sir  John  Herschel  wrote  this  passage ; since  the  cor- 
relation of  forces  was  not  then  recognized.  But  obliged  as  we 
now  are  to  conclude,  that  stars  moving  at  the  high  velocities 
acquired  during  concentration,  will,  by  mutual  arrest,  be  dissi- 
pated into  gases,  the  problem  becomes  different ; and  a different 
inference  seems  unavoidable.  For  the  diffused  matter  produced 
by  such  conflicts  must  form  a resisting  medium,  occupying  that 
central  region  of  the  cluster  through  which  its  members  from 
time  to  time  pass  in  describing  their  orbits  — a resisting  medium 
which  they  cannot  move  through  without  having  their  velocities 
diminished.  Every  additional  collision,  by  augmenting  this  re- 
sisting medium,  and  making  the  losses  of  velocity  greater,  must 
aid  in  preventing  the  establishment  of  that  equilibrium  which 
would  else  arise ; and  so  must  conspire  to  produce  more  frequent 
collisions.  And  the  nebulous  matter  thus  formed,  presently  en- 
veloping the  whole  cluster,  must,  by  continuing  to  shorten  the 
gyrations  of  the  moving  masses,  entail  an  increasingly  active 
integration  and  reactive  disintegration  of  them;  until  they  are 
all  dissipated.  Whether  this  process  completes  itself  independ- 
ently in  different  parts  of  our  Sidereal  System;  or  whether  it 
completes  itself  only  by  aggregating  the  whole  matter  of  our 
Sidereal  System;  or  whether,  as  seems  not  unlikely,  local  in- 
tegrations and  disintegrations  run  their  courses  while  the  gen- 
eral integration  is  going  on;  are  questions  that  need  not  be  dis- 
cussed. In  any  case  the  conclusion  to  be  drawn  is,  that  the 
integration  must  continue  until  the  conditions  which  bring  about 
disintegration  are  reached;  and  that  there  must  then  ensue  a 
diffusion  that  undoes  the  preceding  concentration.  This,  indeed, 
is  the  conclusion  which  presents  itself  as  a deduction  from  the 
persistence  of  force.  If  stars  concentrating  to  a common  centre 


402 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


of  gravity  eventually  reach  it,  then  the  quantities  of  motion  they 
have  acquired  must  suffice  to  carry  them  away  again  to  those 
remote  regions  whence  they  started.  And  since,  by  the  condi- 
tions of  the  case,  they  cannot  return  to  these  remote  regions  in 
the  shape  of  concrete  masses,  they  must  return  in  the  shape  of 
diffused  masses.  Action  and  reaction  being  equal  and  opposite, 
the  momentum  producing  dispersion  must  be  as  great  as  the  mo- 
mentum acquired  by  aggregation ; and  being  spread  over  the  same 
quantity  of  matter,  must  cause  an  equivalent  distribution  through 
space,  whatever  be  the  form  of  the  matter.  One  condition,  how- 
ever, essential  to  the  literal  fulfilment  of  this  result,  must  be 
specified  ; namely,  that  the  quantity  of  molecular  motion  radiated 
into  space  by  each  star  in  the  course  of  its  formation  from 
diffused  matter,  shall  either  not  escape  from  our  Sidereal  System 
or  shall  be  compensated  by  an  equal  quantity  of  molecular  motion 
radiated  from  other  parts  of  space  into  our  Sidereal  System.  In 
other  words,  if  we  set  out  with  that  amount  of  molecular  motion 
implied  by  the  existence  of  the  matter  of  our  Sidereal  System 
in  a nebulous  form ; then  it  follows  from  the  persistence  of  force, 
that  if  this  matter  undergoes  the  redistribution  constituting  Evo- 
lution, the  quantity  of  molecular  motion  given  out  during  the 
integration  of  each  mass,  plus  the  quantity  of  molecular  motion 
given  out  during  the  integration  of  all  the  masses,  must  suffice 
again  to  reduce  it  to  the  same  nebulous  form. 

Here,  indeed,  we  arrive  at  a barrier  to  our  reasonings;  since 
we  cannot  know  whether  this  condition  is  or  is  not  fulfilled.  If 
the  ether  which  fills  the  interspaces  of  our  Sidereal  System  has 
a limit  somewhere  beyond  the  outermost  stars,  then  it  is  inferable 
that  motion  is  not  lost  by  radiation  beyond  this  limit ; and  if  so, 
the  original  degree  of  diffusion  may  be  resumed.  Or  supposing 
the  ethereal  medium  to  have  no  such  limit,  yet,  on  the  hypothesis 
of  an  unlimited  space,  containing,  at  certain  intervals,  Sidereal 
Systems  like  our  own,  it  may  be  that  the  quantity  of  molecular 
motion  radiated  into  the  region  occupied  by  our  Sidereal  System, 
is  equal  to  that  which  our  Sidereal  System  radiates;  in  which 
case  the  quantity  of  motion  possessed  by  it,  remaining  undi- 
minished, it  may  continue  during  unlimited  time  its  alternate 
concentrations  and  diffusions.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand, 
throughout  boundless  space  filled  with  ether,  there  exist  no  other 
Sidereal  Systems  subject  to  like  changes,  or  if  such  other  Si- 


DISSOLUTION 


463 


dereal  Systems  exist  at  more  than  a certain  average  distance 
from  one  another;  then  it  seems  an  unavoidable  conclusion  that 
the  quantity  of  motion  possessed,  must  diminish  by  radiation; 
and  that  so,  on  each  successive  resumption  of  the  nebulous  form, 
the  matter  of  our  Sidereal  System  will  occupy  a less  space ; until 
it  reaches  either  a state  in  which  its  concentrations  and  diffusions 
are  relatively  small,  or  a state  of  complete  aggregation  and  rest. 
Since,  however,  we  have  no  evidence  showing  the  existence  or 
non-existence  of  Sidereal  Systems  throughout  remote  space ; and 
since,  even  had  we  such  evidence,  a legitimate  conclusion  could 
not  be  drawn  from  premises  of  which  one  element  (unlimited 
space)  is  inconceivable;  we  must  be  forever  without  answer  to 
this  transcendent  question. 

But  confining  ourselves  to  the  proximate  and  not  necessarily 
insoluble  question,  we  find  reason  for  thinking  that  after  the 
completion  of  those  various  equilibrations  which  bring  to  a close 
all  the  forms  of  Evolution  we  have  contemplated,  there  must  con- 
tinue an  equilibration  of  a far  wider  kind.  When  that  integra- 
tion everywhere  in  progress  throughout  our  Solar  System  has 
reached  its  climax,  there  will  remain  to  be  effected  the  immeas- 
urably greater  integration  of  our  Solar  System,  with  other  such 
systems.  There  must  then  reappear  in  molecular  motion  what 
is  lost  in  the  motion  of  masses ; and  the  inevitable  transformation 
of  this  motion  of  masses  into  molecular  motion,  cannot  take  place 
without  reducing  the  masses  to  a nebulous  form. 

§ 183.  Thus  we  are  led  to  the  conclusion  that  the  entire  proc- 
ess of  things,  as  displayed  in  the  aggregate  of  the  visible  Uni- 
verse, is  analogous  to  the  entire  process  of  things  as  displayed  in 
the  smallest  aggregates. 

Motion  as  well  as  Matter  being  fixed  in  quantity,  it  would 
seem  that  the  change  in  the  distribution  of  Matter  which  Motion 
effects,  coming  to  a limit  in  whichever  direction  it  is  carried,  the 
indestructible  Motion  thereupon  necessitates  a reverse  distribu- 
tion. Apparently,  the  universally-coexistent  forces  of  attraction 
and  repulsion,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  necessitate  rhythm  in  all 
minor  changes  throughout  the  Universe,  also  necessitate  rhythm 
in  the  totality  of  its  changes  — produce  now  an  immeasurable 
period  during  which  the  attractive  forces  predominating,  cause 
universal  concentration,  and  then  an  immeasurable  period  dur- 


4G4 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ing  which  the  repulsive  forces  predominating,  cause  universal 
diffusion  — alternate  eras  of  Evolution  and  Dissolution.  And 
thus  there  is  suggested  the  conception  of  a past  during  which 
there  have  been  successive  Evolutions  analogous  to  that  which 
is  now  going  on ; and  a future  during  which  successive  other  such 
Evolutions  may  go  on  — ■ ever  the  same  in  principle  but  never  the 
same  in  concrete  result. 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 


465 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION. 

§ 184.  At  the  close  of  a work  like  this,  it  is  more  than  usu- 
ally needful  to  contemplate  as  a whole  that  which  the  successive 
chapters  have  presented  in  parts.  A coherent  knowledge  implies 
something  more  than  the  establishment  of  connections ; we  must 
not  rest  after  seeing  how  each  minor  group  of  truths  falls  into 
its  place  within  some  major  group,  and  how  all  the  major  groups 
lit  together.  It  is  requisite  that  we  should  retire  a space,  and, 
looking  at  the  entire  structure  from  a distance  at  which  details 
are  lost  to  view,  observe  its  general  character. 

Something  more  than  recapitulation  — something  more  even 
than  an  organized  restatement,  will  come  within  the  scope  of  the 
chapter.  We  shall  find  that  in  their  ensemble  the  general  truths 
reached  exhibit,  under  certain  aspects,  a oneness  not  hitherto  ob- 
served. 

There  is,  too,  a special  reason  for  noting  how  the  various  divi- 
sions and  sub-divisions  of  the  argument  consolidate;  namely, 
that  the  theory  at  large  thereby  obtains  a final  illustration.  The 
reduction  of  the  generalizations  that  have  been  set  forth  to  a 
completely  integrated  state,  exemplifies  once  more  the  process  of 
Evolution,  and  strengthens  still  further  the  general  fabric  of 
conclusions. 

§ 185.  Here,  indeed,  we  find  ourselves  brought  round  unex- 
pectedly, and  very  significantly,  to  the  truth  with  which  we  set 
out,  and  with  which  our  resurvey  must  commence.  For  this  in- 
tegrated form  of  knowledge  is  the  form  which,  apart  from  the 
doctrine  of  Evolution,  we  decided  to  be  the  highest  form. 

When  we  inquired  what  constitutes  Philosophy  — when  we 
compared  men’s  various  conceptions  of  Philosophy,  so  that, 
Himinating  the  elements  in  which  they  differed  we  might  see  in 
what  they  agreed;  we  found  in  them  all,  the  tacit  implication 


406 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


that  Philosophy  is  completely  unified  knowledge.  Apart  from 
each  particular  scheme  of  unified  knowledge,  and  apart  from  the 
proposed  methods  by  which  unification  is  to  be  effected,  we  traced 
in  every  case  the  belief  that  unification  is  possible,  and  that  the 
end  of  Philosophy  is  the  achievement  of  it. 

Accepting  this  conclusion,  we  went  on  to  consider  the  data  with 
which  Philosophy  must  set  out.  Fundamental  propositions,  or 
propositions  not  deducible  from  deeper  ones,  can  be  established 
only  by  showing  the  complete  congruity  of  all  the  results  reached 
through  the  assumption  of  them ; and,  premising  that  they  were 
assumed  till  so  established,  we  took  as  our  data,  those  organized 
components  of  our  intelligence  without  which  there  cannot  go 
on  the  mental  processes  implied  by  philosophizing. 

From  the  specification  of  these  we  passed  to  certain  primary 
truths  — “ The  Indestructibility  of  Matter,”  “ The  Continuity  of 
Motion,”  and  “ The  Persistence  of  Force  ” ; of  which  the  last 
is  ultimate  and  the  others  derivative.  Having  previously  seen 
that  our  experiences  of  Matter  and  Motion  are  resolvable  into  ex- 
periences of  Force;  we  further  saw  the  truths  that  Matter  and 
Motion  are  unchangeable  in  quantity,  to  be  implications  of  the 
truth  that  Force  is  unchangeable  in  quantity.  This  we  discov- 
ered is  the  truth  by  derivation  from  which  all  other  truths  are 
to  be  proved. 

The  first  of  the  truths  which  presented  itself  to  be  so  proved 
was  “ The  Persistence  of  the  Relations  among  Forces.”  This, 
which  is  ordinarily  called  Uniformity  of  Law,  we  found  to  be  a 
necessary  implication  of  the  fact  that  Force  can  neither  arise  out 
of  nothing  nor  lapse  into  nothing. 

The  deduction  next  drawn,  was  that  forces  which  seem  to  be 
lost  are  transformed  into  their  equivalents  of  other  forces;  or, 
conversely,  that  forces  which  become  manifest,  do  so  by  disap- 
pearance of  pre-existing  equivalent  forces.  Of  these  truths  we 
found  illustrations  in  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  in  the 
changes  going  on  over  the  Earth’s  surface,  and  in  all  organic  and 
super-organic  actions. 

It  turned  out  to  be  the  same  with  the  law  that  everything 
moves  along  the  line  of  least  resistance,  or  the  line  of  greatest 
traction,  or  their  resultant.  Among  movements  of  all  orders, 
from  those  of  stars  down  to  those  of  nervous  discharges  and  com- 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 


467 


mercial  currents,  it  was  shown  both  that  this  is  sc;,  and  that, 
given  the  Persistence  of  Force,  it  must  he  so. 

So,  too,  we  saw  it  to  be  with  “ The  Rhythm  of  Motion.”  All 
motion  alternates  — be  it  the  motion  of  planets  in  their  orbits  or 
ethereal  molecules  in  their  undulations  — -be  it  the  cadences  of 
speech  or  the  rises  and  falls  of  prices ; and,  as  before,  it  became 
manifest  that.  Force  being  persistent,  this  perpetual  reversal  of 
Motion  between  limits  is  inevitable. 

§ 186.  These  truths  holding  of  all  existences,  were  recognized 
as  of  the  kind  required  to  constitute  what  we  distinguished  as 
Philosophy.  But,  on  considering  them,  we  perceived  that  as 
they  stand  they  do  not  form  anything  like  a Philosophy ; and  that 
a Philosophy  cannot  be  formed  by  any  number  of  such  truths 
separately  known.  Each  such  truth  expresses  the  general  law 
of  some  one  factor  by  which  phenomena,  as  we  habitually  experi- 
ence them,  are  produced ; or,  at  most,  expresses  the  law  of  co- 
operation of  some  two  factors.  But  knowing  what  are  the  ele- 
ments of  a process,  is  not  knowing  how  these  elements  combine 
to  effect  it.  That  which  alone  can  unify  knowledge  must  be  the 
law  of  co-operation  of  all  the  factors  — a law  expressing  simul  - 
taneously  the  complex  antecedents  and  the  complex  consequents 
which  any  phenomenon  as  a whole  presents. 

A further  inference  was  that  Philosophy,  as  we  understand 
it,  must  not  unify  separate  concrete  phenomena  only;  and  must 
not  stop  short  with  unifying  separate  classes  of  concrete  phe- 
nomena ; but  must  unify  all  concrete  phenomena.  If  the  law  of 
operation  of  each  factor  holds  true  throughout  the  Cosmos;  so, 
too,  must  the  law  of  their  co-operation.  And  hence  in  compre- 
hending the  Cosmos  as  conforming  to  this  law  of  co-operation, 
must  consist  that  highest  unification  which  Philosophy  seeks. 

Descending  from  this  abstract  statement  to  a concrete  one,  we 
saw  that  the  law  sought  must  be  the  law  of  the  continuous  re- 
distribution of  Matter  and  Motion.  The  changes  everywhere 
going  on,  from  those  which  are  slowly  altering  the  structure  of 
our  galaxy  down  to  those  which  constitute  a chemical  decom- 
position, are  changes  in  the  relative  positions  of  component  parts; 
and  everywhere  necessarily  imply  that,  along  with  a new  arrange- 
ment of  Matter,  there  has  arisen  a new  arrangement  of  Motion. 
Hence  we  may  be  certain,  & priori , that  there  must  be  a law  of 


4GS 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


(he  concomitant  redistribution  of  Matter  and  Motion,  which 
holds  of  ever}'  change;  and  which,  by  thus  unifying  all  changes, 
must  be  the  basis  of  a Philosophy. 

In  commencing  our  search  for  this  universal  law  of  redistribu- 
tion, we  contemplated  from  another  point  of  view  the  problem 
of  Philosophy ; and  saw  that  its  solution  could  not  but  be  of  the 
nature  indicated.  It  was  shown  that  a Philosophy  stands  self- 
convicted  of  inadequacy  if  it  does  not  formulate  the  whole  series 
of  changes  passed  through  by  every  existence  in  its  passage  from 
the  imperceptible  to  the  perceptible  and  again  from  the  per- 
ceptible to  the  imperceptible.  If  it  begins  its  explanations  with 
existences  that  already  have  concrete  forms,  or  leaves  off  while 
they  still  retain  concrete  forms ; then,  manifestly,  they  had  pre- 
ceding histories,  or  will  have  succeeding  histories,  or  both,  of 
which  no  account  is  given.  And  as  such  preceding  and  succeed- 
ing histories  are  subjects  of  possible  knowledge,  a Philosophy 
which  says  nothing  about  them,  falls  short  of  the  required  uni- 
fication. Whence  we  saw  it  to  follow  that  the  formula  sought, 
equally  applicable  to  existences  taken  singly  and  in  their  totality, 
must  be  applicable  to  the  whole  history  of  each  and  to  the  whole 
history  of  all. 

By  these  considerations  we  were  brought  within  view  of  the 
formula.  For  if  it  had  to  comprehend  the  entire  progress  from 
the  imperceptible  to  the  perceptible  and  from  the  perceptible  to 
the  imperceptible;  and  if  it  was  also  to  express  the  continuous 
redistribution  of  Matter  and  Motion ; then,  obviously,  it  could  be 
no  other  than  one  defining  the  opposite  processes  of  concentra- 
tion and  diffusion  in  terms  of  Matter  and  Motion.  And  if  so,  it 
must  be  a statement  of  the  truth  that  the  concentration  of  Matter 
implies  the  dissipation  of  Motion,  and  that,  conversely,  the  ab- 
sorption of  Motion  implies  the  diffusion  of  Matter. 

Such,  in  fact,  we  found  to  be  the  law  of  the  entire  cycle  of 
changes  passed  through  by  every  existence  — loss  of  motion  and 
consequent  integration,  eventually  followed  by  gain  of  motion 
and  consequent  disintegration.  And  we  saw  that  besides  apply- 
ing to  the  whole  history  of  each  existence,  it  applies  to  each  detail 
of  the  history.  Both  processes  are  going  on  at  every  instant; 
but  always  there  is  a differential  result  in  favor  of  the  first  or 
the  second.  And  every  change,  even  though  it  be  only  a trans- 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 


469 


position  of  parts,  inevitably  advances  the  one  process  or  the 
other. 

Evolution  and  Dissolution,  as  we  name  these  opposite  trans- 
formations, though  thus  truly  defined  in  their  most  general  char- 
acters, are  but  incompletely  defined ; or,  rather,  while  the  defini- 
tion of  Dissolution  is  sufficient,  the  definition  of  Evolution  is 
extremely  insufficient.  Evolution  is  always  an  integration  of 
Matter  and  dissipation  of  Motion;  but  it  is  in  most  cases  much 
more  than  this.  The  primary  redistribution  of  Matter  and  Mo- 
tion is  usually  accompanied  by  secondary  redistributions. 

Distinguishing  the  different  kinds  of  Evolution  so  produced 
as  simple  and  compound,  we  went  on  to  consider  under  what  con- 
ditions the  secondary  redistributions  which  make  Evolution  com- 
pound take  place.  We  found  that  a concentrating  aggregate 
which  loses  its  contained  motion  rapidly,  or  integrates  quickly, 
exhibits  only  simple  Evolution;  but  in  proportion  as  its  large- 
ness, or  the  peculiar  constitution  of  its  components,  hinders  the 
dissipation  of  its  motion,  its  parts,  while  undergoing  that  primary 
redistribution  which  results  in  integration,  undergo  secondary 
redistributions  producing  more  or  less  complexity. 

§ 187.  From  this  conception  of  Evolution  and  Dissolution  as 
together  making  up  the  entire  process  through  which  things 
pass;  and  from  this  conception  of  Evolution  as  dividing  into 
simple  and  compound ; we  went  on  to  consider  the  law  of  Evolu- 
tion, as  exhibited  among  all  orders  of  existences,  in  general  and 
in  detail. 

The  integration  of  Matter  and  concomitant  dissipation  of  Mo- 
tion, was  traced  not  in  each  whole  only,  but  in  the  parts  into 
which  each  whole  divides.  By  the  aggregate  Solar  System,  as 
well  as  by  each  planet  and  satellite,  progressive  concentration 
has  been,  and  is  still  being,  exemplified.  In  each  organism  that 
general  incorporation  of  dispersed  materials  which  causes  growth, 
is  accompanied  by  local  incorporations,  forming  what  we  call  or- 
gans. Every  society  while  it  displays  the  aggregative  process  by 
its  increasing  mass  of  population,  displays  it  also  by  the  rise  of 
dense  masses  in  special  parts  of  its  area.  And  in  all  cases,  along 
with  these  direct  integrations,  there  go  the  indirect  integrations 
by  which  parts  are  made  mutually  dependent. 

From  this  primary  redistribution  we  were  led  on  to  consider 


470 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


the  secondary  redistributions,  by  inquiring  how  there  came  to 
be  a formation  of  parts  during  the  formation  of  a whole.  It 
turned  out  that  there  is  habitually  a passage  from  homogeneity 
to  heterogeneity,  along  with  the  passage  from  diffusion  to  con- 
centration. While  the  matter  composing  the  Solar  System  has 
been  assuming  a denser  form,  it  has  changed  from  unity  to  va- 
riety of  distribution.  Solidification  of  the  Earth  has  been  ac- 
companied by  a progress  from  comparative  uniformity  to 
extreme  multiformity.  In  the  course  of  its  advance  from  a germ 
to  a mass  of  relatively  great  bulk,  every  plant  and  animal  also 
advances  from  simplicity  to  complexity.  The  increase  of  a so- 
ciety in  numbers  and  consolidation  has  for  its  concomitant  an 
increased  heterogeneity  both  of  its  political  and  its  industrial 
organization.  And  the  like  holds  of  all  super-organic  products 
— Language,  Science,  Art,  and  Literature. 

But  we  saw  that  these  secondary  redistributions  are  not  thus 
completely  expressed.  At  the  same  time  that  the  parts  into 
which  each  whole  is  resolved  become  more  unlike  one  another, 
they  also  become  more  sharply  marked  off.  The  result  of  the 
secondary  redistributions  is  therefore  to  change  an  indefinite 
homogeneity  into  a definite  heterogeneity.  This  additional  trait 
also  we  found  to  be  traceable  in  evolving  aggregates  of  all  orders. 
Further  consideration,  however,  made  it  apparent  that  the  in- 
creasing definiteness  which  goes  along  with  increasing  hetero- 
geneity, is  not  an  independent  trait ; but  that  it  results  from  the 
integration  which  progresses  in  each  of  the  differentiating  parts, 
while  it  progresses  in  the  whole  they  form. 

Further,  it  was  pointed  out  that  in  all  evolutions,  inorganic, 
organic,  and  super-organic,  this  change  in  the  arrangement  of 
Matter  is  accompanied  by  a parallel  change  in  the  arrangement 
of  Motion:  every  increase  in  structural  complexity  involving  a 
corresponding  increase  in  functional  complexity.  It  was  shown 
that  along  with  the  integration  of  molecules  into  masses,  there 
arises  an  integration  of  molecular  motion  into  the  motion  of 
masses ; and  that  as  fast  as  there  results  variety  in  the  sizes  and 
forms  of  aggregates  and  their  relations  to  incident  forces,  there 
also  results  variety  in  their  movements. 

The  transformation  thus  contemplated  under  separate  aspects, 
being  in  itself  but  one  transformation,  it  became  needful  to  unite 
these  separate  aspects  into  a single  conception  — to  regard  the 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 


471 


primary  and  secondary  redistributions  as  simultaneously  work- 
ing their  various  effects.  Everywhere  the  change  from  a con- 
fused simplicity  to  a distinct  complexity,  in  the  distribution  of 
both  matter  and  motion,  is  incidental  to  the  consolidation  of  the 
matter  and  the  loss  of  its  motion.  Hence  the  redistribution  of 
the  matter  and  of  its  retained  motion,  is  from  a diffused,  uni- 
form, and  indeterminate  arrangement,  to  a concentrated,  multi- 
form, and  determinate  arrangement. 

§ 188.  We  come  to  one  of  the  additions  that  may  be  made 
to  the  general  argument  while  summing  it  up.  Here  is  the  fit 
occasion  for  observing  a higher  degree  of  unity  in  the  foregoing 
inductions,  than  we  observed  while  making  them. 

The  law  of  Evolution  has  been  thus  far  contemplated  as  hold- 
ing true  of  each  order  of  existences,  considered  as  a separate 
order.  But  the  induction  as  so  presented,  falls  short  of  that  com- 
pleteness which  it  gains  when  we  contemplate  these  several  orders 
of  existences  as  forming  together  one  natural  whole.  While  we 
think  of  Evolution  as  divided  into  astronomic,  geologic,  biologic, 
psychologic,  sociologic,  etc.,  it  may  seem  to  a certain  extent  a 
coincidence  that  the  same  law  of  metamorphosis  holds  through- 
out all  its  divisions.  But  when  we  recognize  these  divisions  as 
mere  conventional  groupings,  made  to  facilitate  the  arrangement 
and  acquisition  of  knowledge  — when  we  regard  the  different 
existences  with  which  they  severally  deal  as  component  parts  of 
one  Cosmos;  we  see  at  once  that  there  are  not  several  kinds  of 
Evolution  having  certain  traits  in  common,  but  one  Evolution 
going  on  everywhere  after  the  same  manner.  We  have  repeat- 
edly observed  that  while  any  whole  is  evolving,  there  is  always 
going  on  an  evolution  of  the  parts  into  which  it  divides  itself ; 
but  we  have  not  observed  that  this  equally  holds  of  the  totality 
of  things,  as  made  up  of  parts  within  parts  from  the  greatest 
down  to  the  smallest.  We  know  that  while  a physically-cohering 
aggregate  like  the  human  body  is  getting  larger  and  taking  on 
its  general  shape,  each  of  its  organs  is  doing  the  same ; that  while 
each  organ  is  growing  and  becoming  unlike  others,  there  is  going 
on  a differentiation  and  integration  of  its  component  tissues  and 
vessels;  and  that  even  the  components  of  these  components  are 
severally  increasing  and  passing  into  more  definitely  heterogene- 
ous structures.  But  we  have  not  duly  remarked  that,  setting  out 


472 


FIRST  rRINCIFLES 


with  the  human  body  as  a minute  part,  and  ascending  from  it  to 
greater  parts,  this  simultaneity  of  transformation  is  equally  mani- 
fest — that  while  each  individual  is  developing,  the  society  of 
which  he  is  an  insignificant  unit  is  developing  too ; that  while  the 
aggregate  mass  forming  a society  is  becoming  more  definitely 
heterogeneous,  so  likewise  is  that  total  aggregate,  the  Earth,  of 
which  the  society  is  an  inappreciable  portion;  that  while  the 
Earth,  which  in  bulk  is  not  a millionth  of  the  Solar  System, 
progresses  toward  its  concentrated  and  complex  structure,  the 
Solar  System  similarly  progresses ; and  that  even  its  transforma- 
tions are  but  those  of  a scarcely  aj)preciable  portion  of  our 
Sidereal  System,  which  has  at  the  same  time  been  going  through 
parallel  changes. 

So  understood.  Evolution  becomes  not  one  in  principle  only, 
but  one  in  fact.  There  are  not  many  metamorphoses  similarly 
carried  on;  but  there  is  a single  metamorphosis  universally 
progressing,  wherever  the  reverse  metamorphosis  has  not  set  in. 
Jn  any  locality,  great  or  small,  throughout  space,  where  the  occu- 
pying matter  acquires  an  appreciable  individuality,  or  distin- 
guishableness from  other  matter,  there  Evolution  goes  on;  or 
rather,  the  acquirement  of  this  appreciable  individuality  is  the 
commencement  of  Evolution.  And  this  holds  uniformly;  re- 
gardless of  the  size  of  the  aggregate,  regardless  of  its  inclusion 
in  other  aggregates,  and  regardless  of  the  wider  evolutions  within 
which  its  own  is  comprehended. 

§ 189.  After  making  them,  we  saw  that  the  inductions  which, 
taken  together,  establish  the  law  of  Evolution,  do  not,  so  long 
as  they  remained  inductions,  form  coherent  parts  of  that  whole 
rightly  named  Philosophy;  nor  does  even  the  foregoing  passage 
of  these  inductions  from  agreement  into  identity,  suffice  to  pro- 
duce the  unity  sought.  For,  as  was  pointed  out  at  the  time,  to 
unify  the  truths  thus  reached  with  other  truths,  it  is  requisite  to 
deduce  them  from  the  Persistence  of  Force.  Our  next  step, 
therefore,  was  to  show  why,  Force  being  persistent,  the  trans- 
formation which  Evolution  shows  us  necessarily  results. 

The  first  conclusion  arrived  at  was,  that  any  finite  homogene- 
ous aggregate  must  inevitably  lose  its  homogeneity,  through  the 
unequal  exposure  of  its  parts  to  incident  forces.  It  was  pointed 
out  that  the  production  of  diversities  of  structure  by  diverse 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 


473 


forces,  and  forces  acting  under  diverse  conditions,  lias  been  illus- 
trated in  astronomic  evolution;  and  that  a like  connection  of 
cause  and  effect  is  seen  in  the  large  and  small  modifications  un- 
dergone by  our  globe.  The  early  changes  of  organic  germs  sup- 
plied further  evidence  that  unlikenesses  of  structure  follow  un- 
likenesses of  relations  to  surrounding  agencies  — evidence 
enforced  by  the  tendency  of  the  differently-placed  members  of 
each  species  to  diverge  into  varieties.  And  we  found  that  the 
contrasts,  political  and  industrial,  which  arise  between  the  parts 
of  societies,  serve  to  illustrate  the  same  principle.  The  instabil- 
ity of  the  homogeneous  thus  everywhere  exemplified  we  also  saw 
holds  in  each  of  the  distinguishable  parts  into  which  any  uniform 
whole  lapses ; and  that  so  the  less  heterogeneous  tends  continually 
to  become  more  heterogeneous. 

A further  step  in  the  inquiry  disclosed  a secondary  cause  of 
increasing  multiformity.  Every  differentiated  part  is  not  simply 
a seat  of  further  differentiations,  but  also  a parent  of  further  dif- 
ferentiations; since,  in  growing  unlike  other  parts,  it  becomes  a 
centre  of  unlike  reactions  on  incident  forces,  and  by  so  adding  to 
the  diversity  of  forces  at  work,  adds  to  the  diversity  of  effects 
produced.  This  multiplication  of  effects  proved  to  be  similarly 
traceable  throughout  all  Nature  — in  the  actions  and  reactions 
that  go  on  throughout  the  Solar  System,  in  the  never-ceasing 
geologic  complications,  in  the  involved  symptoms  produced  in 
organisms  by  disturbing  influences,  in  the  many  thoughts  and 
feelings  generated  by  single  impressions,  and  in  the  ever-ramify- 
ing results  of  each  new  agency  brought  to  bear  on  a society.  To 
which  was  added  the  corollary,  confirmed  by  abundant  facts,  that 
the  multiplication  of  effects  advances  in  a geometrical  progres- 
sion along  with  advancing  heterogeneity. 

Completely  to  interpret  the  structural  changes  constituting 
Evolution,  there  remained  to  assign  a reason  for  that  increas- 
ingly-distinct  demarcation  of  parts  which  accompanies  the  pro- 
duction of  differences  among  parts.  This  reason  we  discovered 
to  be,  the  segregation  of  mixed  units  under  the  action  of  forces 
capable  of  moving  them.  We  saw  that  when  unlike  incident 
forces  have  made  the  parts  of  an  aggregate  unlike  in  the  natures 
of  their  component  units,  there  necessarily  arises  a tendency  to 
separation  of  the  dissimilar  units  from  one  another,  and  to  a 
clustering  of  those  units  which  are  similar.  This  cause  of  the 


474 


FIRST  TRINCirLES 


local  integrations  that  accompany  local  differentiations,  turned 
out  to  be  likewise  exemplified  by  all  kinds  of  Evolution  — by  tlie 
formation  of  celestial  bodies,  by  the  molding  of  the  Earth’s  crust, 
by  organic  modifications,  by  the  establishment  of  mental  distinc- 
tions, by  the  genesis  of  social  divisions. 

At  length,  to  the  query  whether  these  processes  have  any  limit, 
there  came  the  answer  that  they  must  end  in  equilibrium.  That 
continual  division  and  subdivision  of  forces,  which  changes  the 
uniform  into  the  multiform  and  the  multiform  into  the  more 
multiform,  is  a process  by  which  forces  are  perpetually  dissi- 
pated; and  dissipation  of  them,  continuing  as  long  as  there  re- 
main any  forces  unbalanced  by  opposing  forces,  must  end  in  rest. 
It  was  shown  that  when,  as  happens  in  aggregates  of  various 
orders,  many  movements  are  going  on  together,  the  earlier  dis- 
persion of  the  smaller  and  more  resisted  movements,  establishes 
moving  equilibria  of  different  kinds : forming  transitional  stages 
on  the  way  to  complete  equilibrium.  And  further  inquiry  made 
it  apparent  that,  for  the  same  reason,  these  moving  equilibria 
have  certain  self-conserving  powers ; shown  in  the  neutralization 
of  perturbations,  and  the  adjustment  to  new  conditions.  This 
general  principle  of  equilibration,  like  the  preceding  general 
principles,  was  traced  throughout  all  forms  of  Evolution  — as- 
tronomic, geologic,  biologic,  mental  and  social.  And  our  con- 
cluding inference  was,  that  the  penultimate  stage  of  equilibra- 
tion, in  which  the  extremest  multiformity  and  most  complex 
moving  equilibrium  are  established,  must  be  one  implying  the 
highest  conceivable  state  of  humanity. 

But  the  fact  which  it  here  chiefly  concerns  us  to  remember,  is 
that  each  of  these  laws  of  the  redistribution  of  Matter  and  Mo- 
tion was  found  to  be  a derivative  laAV  — a law  deducible  from  the 
fundamental  law.  The  Persistence  of  Force  being  granted,  there 
follow  as  inevitable  inferences  “ The  Instability  of  the  Homo- 
geneous ” and  “ The  Multiplication  of  Effects  ” ; while  “ Segre- 
tion  ” and  “ Equilibration  ” also  become  corollaries.  And  thus 
discovering  that  the  processes  of  change  formulated  under  these 
titles  are  so  many  different  aspects  of  one  transformation,  deter- 
mined by  an  ultimate  necessity,  we  arrive  at  a complete  unifica- 
tion of  them  — a synthesis  in  which  Evolution  in  general  and  in 
detail  becomes  known  as  an  implication  of  the  law  that  tran- 
scends proof.  Moreover,  in  becoming  thus  unified  with  one  an- 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 


475 


other,  the  complex  truths  of  Evolution  become  simultaneously 
unified  with  those  simpler  truths  shown  to  have  a like  affiliation 
— the  equivalence  of  transformed  forces,  the  movement  of  every 
mass  and  molecule  along  its  line  of  least  resistance,  and  the  limi- 
tation of  its  motion  by  rhythm.  Which  further  unification  brings 
us  to  a conception  of  the  entire  plexus  of  changes  presented  by 
each  concrete  phenomenon,  and  by  the  aggregate  of  concrete  phe- 
nomena, as  a manifestation  of  one  fundamental  fact  — a fact 
shown  alike  in  the  total  change  and  in  all  the  separate  changes 
composing  it. 

§ 190.  Finally  we  turned  to  contemplate,  as  exhibited 
throughout  Nature,  that  process  of  Dissolution  which  forms  the 
complement  of  Evolution;  and  which  inevitably,  at  some  time 
or  other,  undoes  what  Evolution  has  done. 

Quickly  following  the  arrest  of  Evolution  in  aggregates  that 
are  unstable,  and  following  it  at  periods  often  long  delayed  but 
reached  at  last  in  the  stable-  aggregates  around  us,  we  saw  that 
even  to  the  vast  aggregate  of  which  all  these  are  parts  — even 
to  the  Earth  as  a whole  — Dissolution  must  eventually  arrive. 
Nay  we  even  saw  grounds  for  the  belief  that  the  far  vaster  masses 
dispersed  at  almost  immeasurable  intervals  through  space,  will, 
at  a time  beyond  the  reach  of  finite  imaginations,  share  the  same 
fate ; and  that  so  universal  Evolution  will  be  followed  by  univer- 
sal Dissolution  — a conclusion  which,  like  those  preceding  it,  we 
saw  to  be  deducible  from  the  Persistence  of  Force. 

It  may  be  added  that  in  so  unifying  the  phenomena  of  Dis- 
solution with  those  of  Evolution,  as  being  manifestations  of  the 
same  ultimate  law  under  opposite  conditions,  we  also  unify  the 
phenomena  presented  by  the  existing  Universe  with  the  like 
phenomena  that  have  preceded  them  and  will  succeed  them  — so 
far,  at  least,  as  such  unification  is  possible  to  our  limited  intelli- 
gences. For  if,  as  we  saw  reason  to  think,  there  is  an  alterna- 
tion of  Evolution  and  Dissolution  in  the  totality  of  things  — if, 
as  we  are  obliged  to  infer  from  the  Persistence  of  Force,  the  arri- 
val at  either  limit  of  this  vast  rhythm  brings  about  the  conditions 
under  which  a counter-movement  commences  — if  we  are  hence 
compelled  to  entertain  the  conception  of  Evolutions  that  have 
filled  an  immeasurable  past  and  Evolutions  that  will  fill  an 
immeasurable  future;  we  can  no  longer  contemplate  the  visible 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


476 

creation  as  having  a definite  beginning  or  end,  or  as  being  iso- 
lated. It  becomes  unified  with  all  existence  before  and  after; 
and  the  Force  which  the  Universe  presents,  falls  into  the  same 
category  with  its  Space  and  Time,  as  admitting  of  no  limitation 
in  thought. 

§ 191.  So  rounding  off  the  argument,  we  find  its  result 
brought  into  complete  coalescence  with  the  conclusion  reached 
in  Part  I. ; where,  independently  of  any  inquiry  like  the  fore- 
going, we  dealt  with  the  relation  between  the  Knowable  and  the 
Unknowable. 

It  was  there  shown  by  analysis  of  both  our  religious  and  our 
scientific  ideas,  that  while  knowledge  of  the  cause  which  pro- 
duces effects  on  our  consciousness  is  impossible,  the  existence  of 
a cause  for  these  effects  is  a datum  of  consciousness.  We  saw 
that  the  belief  in  a Power  of  which  no  limit  in  Time  or  Space 
can  be  conceived  is  that  fundamental  element  in  Religion  which 
survives  all  its  changes  of  form.  We  saw  that  all  Philosophies 
avowedly  or  tacitly  recognize  this  same  ultimate  truth  — that 
while  the  Relativist  rightly  repudiates  those  definite  assertions 
which  the  Absolutist  makes  respecting  existence  transcending 
perception,  he  is  yet  at  last  compelled  to  unite  with  him  in  pred- 
icating existence  transcending  perception.  And  this  inexpung- 
able  consciousness  in  which  Religion  and  Philosophy  are  at 
one  with  Common  Sense,  proved  to  be  likewise  that  on  which  all 
exact  Science  is  based.  We  found  that  subjective  Science  can 
give  no  account  of  those  conditioned  modes  of  being  which  con- 
stitute consciousness,  without  postulating  unconditioned  being. 
And  we  found  that  objective  Science  can  give  no  account  of  the 
world  which  we  know  as  external,  without  regarding  its  changes 
of  form  as  manifestations  of  something  that  continues  constant 
under  all  forms.  This  is  also  the  implication  to  which  we  are 
now  led  back  by  our  completed  synthesis.  The  recognition  of  a 
persistent  Force,  ever  changing  its  manifestations  but  un- 
changed in  quantity  throughout  all  past  time  and  all  future 
time,  is  that  which  we  find  alone  makes  possible  each  concrete 
interpretation,  and  at  last  unifies  all  concrete  interpretations. 
Not,  indeed,  that  this  coincidence  adds  to  the  strength  of  the 
argument  as  a logical  structure.  Our  synthesis  has  proceeded  by 
taking  for  granted  at  every  step  this  ultimate  truth;  and  the 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 


477 


ultimate  truth  cannot,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  in  any  sense 
an  outcome  of  the  synthesis.  Nevertheless,  the  coincidence 
yields  a verification.  For  when  treating  of  the  data  of  Philoso- 
phy, it  was  pointed  out  that  we  cannot  take  even  a first  step 
without  making  assumptions ; and  that  the  only  course  is  to  pro- 
ceed with  them  as  provisional,  until  they  are  proved  true  by  the 
congruity  of  all  the  results  reached.  This  congruity  we  here 
see  to  be  perfect  and  all-embracing  — holding  throughout  that 
entire  structure  of  definite  consciousness  of  relations  which  we 
call  Knowledge,  and  harmonizing  with  it  that  indefinite  con- 
sciousness of  existence  transcending  relations  which  forms  the 
essence  of  Religion. 

§ 192.  Toward  some  result  of  this  order,  inquiry,  scientific, 
metaphysical,  and  theological,  has  been,  and  still  is,  manifestly 
advancing.  The  coalescence  of  polytheistic  conceptions  into  the 
monotheistic  conception,  and  the  reduction  of  the  monotheistic 
conception  to  a more  and  more  general  form  in  which  personal 
superintendence  becomes  merged  in  universal  immanence, 
clearly  shows  this  advance.  It  is  equally  shown  in  the  fading 
away  of  old  theories  about  “ essences,”  “ potentialities,”  “ occult 
virtues,”  etc. ; in  the  abandonment  of  such  doctrines  as  those  of 
“ Platonic  Ideas,”  “ Pre-established  Harmonies,”  and  the  like ; 
and  in  the  tendency  toward  the  identification  of  Being  as 
present  to  us  in  consciousness  with  Being  as  otherwise  con- 
ditioned beyond  consciousness.  Still  more  conspicuous  is  it  in 
the  progress  of  Science;  which  from  the  beginning  has  been 
grouping  isolated  facts  under  laws,  uniting  special  laws  under 
more  general  laws,  and  so  reaching  on  to  laws  of  higher  and 
higher  generality;  until  the  conception  of  universal  laws  has 
become  familiar  to  it. 

Unification  being  thus  the  characteristic  of  developing 
thought  of  all  kinds,  and  eventual  arrival  at  unity  being  fairly 
inferable,  there  arises  yet  a further  support  to  our  conclusion. 
Since,  unless  there  is  some  other  and  higher  unity,  the  unity  we 
have  reached  must  be  that  toward  which  developing  thought 
tends;  and  that  there  is  any  other  and  higher  unity  is  scarcely 
supportable.  Having  grouped  the  changes  which  all  orders  of 
existences  display  into  inductions;  having  merged  these  induc- 
tions into  a single  induction;  having  interpreted  this  induction 


478 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


deductively ; having  seen  that  the  ultimate  truth  from  which  it 
is  deduced  is  one  transcending  proof : it  seems,  to  say  the  least, 
very  improbable  that  there  can  be  established  a fundamentally 
different  way  of  unifying  that  entire  process  of  things  which 
Philosophy  has  to  interpret.  That  the  foregoing  accumulated 
verifications  are  all  illusive,  or  that  an  opposing  doctrine  can 
show  a greater  accumulation  of  verifications,  is  not  easy  to 
conceive. 

Let  no  one  suppose  that  any  such  implied  degree  of  trust- 
worthiness is  alleged  of  the  various  minor  propositions  brought 
in  illustration  of  the  general  argument.  Such  an  assumption 
would  be  so  manifestly  absurd,  that  it  seems  scarcely  needful 
to  disclaim  it.  But  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  as  a whole,  is 
unaffected  by  errors  in  the  details  of  its  presentation.  If  it  can 
be  shown  that  the  Persistence  of  Force  is  not  a datum  of  con- 
sciousness; or  if  it  can  be  shown  that  the  several  laws  of  force 
above  specified  are  not  corollaries  from  it;  or  if  it  can  be  shown 
that,  given  these  laws,  the  redistribution  of  Matter  and  Motion 
does  not  necessarily  proceed  as  described;  then,  indeed,  it  will 
be  shown  that  the  theory  of  Evolution  has  not  the  high  warrant 
here  claimed  for  it.  But  nothing  short  of  this  can  shake  the 
general  conclusions  arrived  at. 

§193.  If  these  conclusions  be  accepted  — if  it  be  agreed 
that  the  phenomena  going  on  everywhere  are  parts  of  the  gen- 
eral process  of  Evolution,  save  where  they  are  parts  of  the 
reverse  process  of  Dissolution ; then  we  may  infer  that  all 
phenomena  receive  their  complete  interpretation,  only  when 
recognized  as  parts  of  these  processes.  Whence  it  follows  that 
the  limit  toward  which  Knowledge  is  advancing,  must  be 
reached  when  the  formula:  of  these  processes  are  so  applied  as  to 
yield  a total  and  specific  interpretation  of  each  phenomenon  in 
its  entirety,  as  well  as  of  phenomena  in  general. 

The  partially-unified  knowledge  distinguished  as  Science  does 
not  yet  include  such  total  interpretations.  Either,  as  in  the 
more  complex  sciences,  the  progress  is  almost  exclusively  in- 
ductive; or,  as  in  the  simpler  sciences,  the  deductions  are  con- 
cerned with  the  component  phenomena ; and  at  present  there  is 
scarcely  a consciousness  that  the  ultimate  task  is  the  deductive 
interpretation  of  phenomena  in  their  state  of  composition.  The 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 


479 


Abstract  Sciences,  dealing  with  the  forms  under  which  phe- 
nomena are  presented,  and  the  Abstract-Concrete  Sciences, 
dealing  with  the  factors  by  which  phenomena  are  produced,  are, 
philosophically  considered,  the  handmaids  of  the  Concrete 
Sciences,  which  deal  with  the  produced  phenomena  as  existing 
in  all  their  natural  complexity.  The  laws  of  the  forms  and  the 
laws  of  the  factors  having  been  ascertained,  there  then  conies 
the  business  of  ascertaining  the  laws  of  the  products,  as  deter- 
mined by  the  interaction  of  the  co-operative  factors.  Given 
the  Persistence  of  Porce,  and  given  the  various  derivative  laws 
of  Force,  and  there  has  to  be  shown  not  only  how  the  actual 
existences  of  the  inorganic  world  necessarily  exhibit  the  traits 
they  do,  but  how  there  necessarily  result  the  more  numerous  and 
involved  traits  exhibited  by  organic  and  superorganic  existences 
— how  an  organism  is  evolved  ? what  is  the  genesis  of  human 
intelligence?  whence  social  progress  arises? 

It  is  evident  that  this  development  of  Knowledge  into  an 
organized  aggregate  of  direct  and  indirect  deductions  from  the 
Persistence  of  Force,  can  be  achieved  only  in  the  remote  future; 
and,  indeed,  cannot  be  completely  achieved  even  then.  Scien- 
tific progress  is  progress  in  that  equilibration  of  thought  and 
things  which  we  saw  is  going  on,  and  must  continue  to  go  on ; 
but  which  cannot  arrive  at  perfection  in  any  finite  period. 
Still,  though  Science  can  never  be  entirely  reduced  to  this 
form;  and  though  only  at  a far  distant  time  can  it  be  brought 
nearly  to  this  form ; much  may  even  now  be  done  in  the  way  of 
approximation. 

Of  course,  what  may  now  be  done,  can  be  done  but  very 
imperfectly  by  any  single  individual.  No  one  can  possess  that 
encyclopedic  information  required  for  rightly  organizing  even 
the  truths  already  established.  Nevertheless  as  progress  is 
effected  by  increments  — as  all  organization,  beginning  in  faint 
and  blurred  outlines,  is  completed  by  successive  modifications 
and  additions;  advantage  may  accrue  from  an  attempt,  however 
rude,  to  reduce  the  facts  now  accumulated  — or  rather  certain 
classes  of  them  — to  something  like  co-ordination. 

§ 194.  A few  closing  words  must  be  said,  concerning  the 
general  bearings  of  the  doctrines  that  are  now  to  be  further  de- 
veloped. Before  proceeding  to  interpret  the  detailed  phenom- 


480 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


ena  of  Life,  and  Mind,  and  Society,  in  terms  of  Matter,  Motion, 
and  Force,  the  reader  must  be  reminded  in  what  sense  the  in- 
terpretations are  to  be  accepted. 

It  is  true  that  their  purely  relative  character  has  been  repeat- 
edly insisted  upon;  but  the  liability  to  misinterpretation  is  so 
great,  that  notwithstanding  all  evidence  to  the  contrary,  there 
will  probably  have  arisen  in  not  a few  minds,  the  conviction 
that  the  solutions  which  have  been  given,  along  with  those  to  be 
derived  from  them,  are  essentially  materialistic.  Having, 
throughout  life,  constantly  heard  the  charge  of  materialism 
made  against  those  who  ascribed  the  more  involved  phenomena 
to  agencies  like  those  which  produce  the  simplest  phenomena, 
most  persons  have  acquired  repugnance  to  such. modes  of  inter- 
pretation; and  the  universal  application  of  them,  even  though 
it  is  premised  that  the  solutions  they  give  can  be  but  relative, 
will  probably  rouse  more  or  less  of  the  habitual  feeling.  Such 
an  attitude  of  mind,  however,  is  significant,  not  so  much  of  a 
reverence  for  the  Unknown  Cause,  as  of  an  irreverence  for 
those  familiar  forms  in  which  the  Unknown  Cause  is  manifested 
to  us.  Men  who  have  not  risen  above  that  vulgar  conception 
which  unites  with  Matter  the  contemptuous  epithets  “ gross  ” 
and  “ brute,”  may  naturally  feel  dismay  at  the  proposal  to 
reduce  the  phenomena  of  Life,  of  Mind,  and  of  Society,  to  a 
level  with  those  which  they  think  so  degraded.  But  whoever 
remembers  that  the  forms  of  existence  which  the  uncultivated 
speak  of  with  so  much  scorn,  are  shown  by  the  man  of  science 
to  be  the  more  marvellous  in  their  attributes  the  more  they  are 
investigated,  and  are  also  proved  to  be  in  their  ultimate  natures 
absolutely  incomprehensible  — as  absolutely  incomprehensible 
as  sensation,  or  the  conscious  something  which  perceives  it  — 
whoever  clearly  recognizes  this  truth,  will  see  that  the  course 
proposed  does  not  imply  a degradation  of  the  so-called  higher, 
but  an  elevation  of  the  so-called  lower.  Perceiving,  as  he  will, 
that  the  Materialist  and  Spiritualist  controversy  is  a mere  war 
of  words,  in  which  the  disputants  are  equally  absurd  — each 
thinking  lie  understands  that  which  it  is  impossible  for  any  man 
to  understand  — he  will  perceive  how  utterly  groundless  is  the 
fear  referred  to.  Being  fully  convinced  that  whatever  nomen- 
clature is  used,  the  ultimate  mystery  must  remain  the  same,  he 
will  be  as  ready  to  formulate  all  phenomena  in  terms  of  Matter, 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 


481 


Motion,  anc!  Force,  as  in  any  other  terms;  and  will  rather  in- 
deed anticipate,  that  only  in  a doctrine  which  recognizes  the 
Unknown  Cause  as  co-extensive  with  all  orders  of  phenomena, 
can  there  be  a consistent  Religion,  or  a consistent  Philosophy. 

Though  it  is  impossible  to  prevent  misrepresentations,  es- 
pecially when  the  questions  involved  are  of  a kind  that  excite  so 
much  animus,  yet  to  guard  against  them  as  far  as  may  be,  it 
will  be  well  to  make  a succinct  and  emphatic  re-statement  of 
the  Philosophico-Religious  doctrine  which  pervades  the  fore- 
going pages.  Over  and  over  again  it  has  been  shown  in  various 
ways,  that  the  deepest  truths  we  can  reach  are  simply  state- 
ments of  the  widest  uniformities  in  our  experience  of  the  rela- 
tions of  Matter,  Motion,  and  Force;  and  that  Matter,  Motion, 
and  Force  are  but  symbols  of  the  Unknown  Reality.  A Power 
of  which  the  nature  remains  forever  inconceivable,  and  to  which 
no  limits  in  Time  or  Space  can  be  imagined,  works  in  us  certain 
effects.  These  effects  have  certain  likenesses  of  kind,  the  most 
general  of  which  we  class  together  under  the  names  of  Matter, 
Motion,  and  Force;  and  between  these  effects  there  are  like- 
nesses of  connection,  the  most  constant  of  which  we  class  as 
laws  of  the  highest  certainty.  Analysis  reduces  these  several 
kinds  of  effect  to  one  kind  of  effect;  and  these  several  kinds  of 
uniformity  to  one  kind  of  uniformity.  And  the  highest 
achievement  of  Science  is  the  interpretation  of  all  orders  of 
phenomena,  as  differently-conditioned  manifestations  of  this  one 
kind  of  effect,  under  differently-conditioned  modes  of  this  one 
kind  of  uniformity.  But  when  Science  has  done  this,  it  has 
done  nothing  more  than  systematize  our  experience;  and  has 
in  no  degree  extended  the  limits  of  our  experience.  We  can 
say  no  more  than  before,  whether  the  uniformities  are  as  abso- 
lutely necessary,  as  they  have  become  to  our  thought  relatively 
necessary.  The  utmost  possibility  for  us,  is  an  interpretation 
of  the  process  of  things  as  it  presents  itself  to  our  limited  con- 
sciousness; but  how  this  process  is  related  to  the  actual  process 
we  are  unable  to  conceive,  much  less  to  know.  Similarly,  it 
must  be  remembered  that  while  the  connection  between  the 
phenomenal  order  and  the  ontological  order  is  forever  inscruta- 
ble ; so  is  the  connection  between  the  conditioned  forms  of  being 
and  the  unconditioned  form  of  being  forever  inscrutable.  The 
interpretation  of  all  phenomena  in  terms  of  Matter,  Motion, 


■182 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 


and  Force,  is  nothing  more  than  the  reduction  of  onr  complex 
symbols  of  thought,  to  the  simplest  symbols ; and  when  the  equa- 
tion has  been  brought  to  its  lowest  terms  the  symbols  remain 
symbols  still.  Hence  the  reasonings  contained  in  the  fore- 
going pages,  afford  no  support  to  either  of  the  antagonist  hy- 
potheses respecting  the  ultimate  nature  of  things.  Their  im- 
plications are  no  more  materialistic  than  they  are  spiritualistic; 
and  no  more  spiritualistic  than  they  are  materialistic.  Any 
argument  which  is  apparently  furnished  to  either  hypothesis, 
is  neutralized  by  as  good  an  argument  furnished  to  the  other. 
The  Materialist,  seeing  it  to  be  a necessary  deduction  from  the 
law  of  correlation,  that  what  exists  in  consciousness  under  the 
form  of  feeling,  is  transformable  into  an  equivalent  of  mechan- 
ical motion,  and  by  consequence  into  equivalents  of  all  the  other 
forces  which  matter  exhibits;  may  consider  it  therefore  demon- 
strated that  the  phenomena  of  consciousness  are  material  phe- 
nomena. But  the  Spiritualist,  setting  out  with  the  same  data, 
may  argue  with  equal  cogency,  that  if  the  forces  displayed  by 
matter  are  cognizable  only  under  the  shape  of  those  equivalent 
amounts  of  consciousness  which  they  produce,  it  is  to  be  in- 
ferred that  these  forces,  when  existing  out  of  consciousness,  are 
of  the  same  intrinsic  nature  as  when  existing  in  consciousness; 
and  that  so  is  justified  the  spritualistic  conception  of  the  exter- 
nal world,  as  consisting  of  something  essentially  identical  with 
what  we  call  mind.  Manifestly,  the  establishment  of  correla- 
tion and  equivalence  between  the  forces  of  the  outer  and  the 
inner  worlds  may  be  used  to  assimilate  either  to  the  other; 
according  as  we  set  out  with  one  or  other  term.  But  he  who 
rightly  interprets  the  doctrine  contained  in  this  work,  will  see 
that  neither  of  these  terms  can  he  taken  as  ultimate.  He  will 
see  that  though  the  relation  of  subject  and  object  renders  neces- 
sary to  us  these  antithetical  conceptions  of  Spirit  and  Matter; 
the  one  is  no  less  than  the  other  to  be  regarded  as  but  a sign  of 
the  Unknown  Beality  which  underlies  both. 


INDEX. 


Absolute,  an,  must  be  postulated, 

82 

Absolute,  the,  conception  of,  66 
Absolute  and  infinite,  conceptions 
of,  35 

Activity,  principle  of,  159 
Aggregation,  force  of,  376 
Art,  evolution  of,  2Sl-283i  324,  327 
Atheism,  unthinkable,  35 

Ball  and  elastic  string  experiment, 
157,  158 

Barter,  origin  of,  209 
Body  moving  through  space,  law 
of,  250 

Brewster,  Sir  David,  quoted,  425 

Conceptions,  nature  of,  21 
Creation,  as  a theory  of  origins, 

27 

Creator,  self-existent,  unthinkable, 

29 

Creed,  religious,  definition  of,  36 
Consciousness,  nature  of,  51 
Cousin,  criticised  by  Hamilton,  75 
Cosmical  revolutions,  effects  of, 

381 

Dancing,  evolution  of,  306-310 
Darwin,  quoted,  387,  410 
Data  of  philosophy,  113-132 
Death  universal,  the  outcome  of 
evolution,  444,  451,  457 
Dissolution  and  evolution,  241- 
248 

Dissolution,  in  evolution,  448-464 
Dissolution  the  eom",ement  of  evo- 
lution, 475 

Divisibility  of  matter,  41 
Division  of  labor,  origin  of,  210 
Dulong,  investigations  of  heat,  175 

Earth,  complete  equilibration  of, 
428-430 

Earth  to  fall  into  sun,  456 
Effects,  multiplication  of,  373-396 
Electricitv,  transformations  of, 

173 

Emotion  and  action,  relation  be- 
tween, 205 

Emotions  in  Evolution,  389,  390 

483 


Energy,  “ actual  ” and  “ potential,” 
163 

Equilibration  in  evolution,  418-447 
Equilibrium,  unstable,  defined,  348 
Equilibrium  mobile,  420 
Evolution,  definitions  of,  283,  291, 
311,  312,  314,  329,  343 
finished  conception  of,  342, 
343 

interpretation  of,  344-347 
law  of,  266-347 
simple  and  compound,  249-265 
compound,  285 
and  dissolution,  241-248 
summary  of  arguments  and 
conclusions,  465 

First  cause,  nature  of,  30  et  seq. 
Force,  the  ultimate  of  ultimates, 
142 

Force,  persistence  of,  162-193 
Forces,  persistence  of  relations 
among,  168-170 

Freedom  of  individual  sacred,  1-5 
Forces,  transformation  and  equiva- 
lence of,  171-193 

Galileo’s  chandelier  experiment, 
156,  157 

Geologic  changes,  due  to  unexpend- 
ed heat,  178-ISO 
Geologic  evolution,  268,  269 
Geologic  changes  caused  by  water, 
404,  405 

Glyptodon,  armor  of,  408 
Goodness  in  things  evil,  1 
Grimthorpe’s  criticism  on  the  pe- 
riodicity of  comets,  '235 
Graves’  “ Correlation  of  Physical 
Forces,”  quoted,  175,  182 

Hamilton,  Sir  TVilliam,  doctrine  of, 
quoted,  32,  73 
on  the  absolute,  75 
criticises  Cousin,  75 
on  reliability  of  consciousness, 
118 

“ Philosophy  of  the  Uncondi- 
tioned,” 62-64 
on  the  unknown,  57 


4S4 


INDEX 


Happiness  and  perfection,  the  out- 
come of  evolution,  447 
Heat,  the  product  of  lost  motion, 
171,  172 

Heat  of  earth’s  nucleus,  177 
Helmholtz  quoted,  427,  455 
Herschel,  Sir  John,  quoted,  460- 
61 

Hinton,  James,  on  direction  of  mo- 
tion, 201,  202 

Homogeneity,  only  one  stable,  pos- 
sible, 302 

Homogeneus,  the,  instability  of, 
348-372 

Hooke,  experiments  of,  154 
Huxley,  quoted,  408,  409 
Huxley,  on  “ Persistent  Types,” 
294 

Ideas,  ultimate  religious,  20-38 
ultimate  scientific,  39-56 
in  evolution,  388,  389 
Individual  liberty,  limited,  the  ba- 
sis of  government,  1-7 
Infinite  and  absolute,  conceptions 
of,  1,  35 

Insane,  peculiar  odor  of  the,  188 

Joule's  falling  body  experiment, 
175 

Kant’s  theory  of  space  and  time, 
40,  41 

Knowledge,  never  complete,  12,  13 
relativity  of,  57,  82 
Knowable,  the,  106 

Language,  evolution  of,  267-279, 
300-303,  324 

Laplace  on  the  nebular  hypothesis, 
354 

Life,  definition  of,  72 
Life  after  death,  the  argument  of 
evolution  for,  stated,  457- 
464 

Mammoths  in  Siberia,  452 
Man,  evolution  of,  295-311 
Hansel,  on  consciousness,  54 

Limits  of  Religious  Thought, 
64,  66 

on  relative  and  non-relative,  77 
on  the  absolute,  78 
on  God,  92 

“ Limits  of  Religious  Thought,” 
1,  32 

Matter,  divisibility  of,  41 

Newton’s  theory  of,  43,  49 
Boscovich’s  theory  of,  44,  49 
theories  of  a choice  of  absurd- 
ities, 45 

contrasted  with  space,  140 
cognition  of,  some  mode  of,  of 
the  unknowable,  141 
indestructibility  of,  146-152 


Mental  evolution,  410—412 
Mental  life,  equilibration  of,  434- 
438 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  quoted,  441 
Mind,  law  of  the  phenomena  of, 
204 

Motion  and  rest,  the  puzzle  of, 
117 

our  cognition  of,  a mode  of 
(he  Unknowable,  142 
continuity  of,  153-161 
ideas  of  the  Greeks  on,  154 
law  of,  expressed  by  Newton, 
154 

direction  of,  194-216 
follows  line  of  least  resistance, 
207 

rhythm  of,  217,  235 
Music,  evolution  of,  306-310 

Nature’s  punishments,  a benefi- 
cence, 102 

Nebular  hypothesis  explains  the 
solar  system,  176,  19S,  267, 
2S7,  317 

Neumann’s  investigations  of  heat, 
175 

Newton’s  expression  of  the  first 
law  of  motion,  154 
Non-relative  or  absolute  must  be 
postulated,  82 

Occupations,  origins  of,  209,  210 
Organic  evolution,  269,  273 

Painting  and  sculpture,  evolution 
of,  303-306 

Pantheism  unthinkable,  35 
Perfection  and  happiness,  the  out- 
come of  evolution,  447 
Persistence  of  force,  laws  of,  stat- 
ed, 415-417 

Petit’s  investigations  of  heat,  175 
Philosophy  defined,  106-112 
data  of,  113-132 
the  unifier  of  science,  144 
Pious,  impiety  of  the,  93,  94 
Plato,  quoted,  1,  27 
Poetry,  evolution  of,  306-310 
“ Principles  of  Psychology,”  quot- 
ed, 137 

Protophyta,  differentiation  in,  360 
Protozoa,  changes  of,  359 
Pythagoras,  on  philosophy,  107 

Reconciliation  of  religion  and 
science,  83-105 

Relativity  of  all  knowledge,  57 
Religion  and  science,  conflict  of, 
8-19 

necessity  for  justification  of, 
14 

an  expression  of  some  external 
fact,  16 


INDEX 


485 


Religion  and  science, 

common  ground  of,  18 
reconciliation  of,  83-105 
faults  of,  89 

necessity  of  forms  in,  103-105 
Religious  ideas,  ultimate,  20-38 
sentiment,  origin  of,  11, 

13 

Rest  and  motion,  the  puzzle  of,  47 
Rulers,  as  gods  and  demigods,  2 
Rulers  and  ruled,  relations  of,  3 
Rhythm  due  to  the  persistence  of 
force, 

manifested  in  every  form 
of  movement,  233 

Segregation,  in  evolution,  397-^117 
Self,  belief  in  the  reality  of,  53 
Self-existent  creator,  unthinkable, 
29 

Science,  necessity  for  justification, 
13 

a higher  development  of  com- 
mon sense,  14 
truth  of,  15 
and  religion,  1,  8-19 
faults  of,  89 
evolution  of,  279-281 
evolution  of,  324 
Scientific  ideas,  ultimate,  39-56 
Sculpture  aud  painting,  evolution 
of,  303-306 

Sidereal  system,  evolution  of,  286 
in  course  of  rearrangement, 
459-463 

Social  dissolution,  449 

evolution,  274,  322,  412-4  5 
Society,  in  evolution,  390-395 
first  industrial  divisions  of, 
368 

equilib.  n of,  438-111 
Socrates,  ph  osophy  of,  107 
Solar  system,  explained  by  the 
nebular  hypothesis,  176, 
198,  267,  287,  317 
evolutionary  changes  in,  267, 
268,  286,  289,  316,  354 
equilibration  of,  424—428 
Space  and  Time  defined,  39 
Kant’s  theory  of,  40,  41 


Space,  always  existent,  28 

our  conception  of,  some  mode 
of  the  Unknowable,  40 
consciousness  of,  138,  139 
Stoics,  philosophy  of  the,  107 

Tape-worm,  development  of,  3S3 
Thalassicola,  differentiation  in, 
360 

Theism  unthinkable,  35 
Time  and  space  defined,  39 
Kant’s  theory  or,  40,  41 
a relative  reality,  138,  139 
Toleration,  a necessity  of  the  ac- 
ceptance of  the  Unknow- 
able. 101-103 

Top  Spinning,  to  illustrate  equili- 
bration, 421 

Truth  a priori,  defined,  152 
“ Truth,  necessary,”  defined,  152 
Transcendentalists  and  phenomena 
of  consciousness,  137 

Unconditioned,  the,  unthinkable, 
89 

Universe,  the,  origin  of,  1,  24  et 
seq. 

nature  of,  1,  30 

Unknowable,  the,  the  common  ba- 
sis of  all  religions,  1,  38 
the,  accepted  by  philosophers, 
58 

manifestations  of  the,  131 
its  place  in  evolution,  476 
Ultimate  cause,  difficulty  of  ac- 
cepting, the,  96  et  seq. 
Ultimate  scientific  principles,  39- 
56 

Ultimate  religious  ideas,  20-38 

Vertebral  column,  406,  407 
Von  Baer’s  expression  of  the  law 
of  evolution,  291 


Whewell,  quoted,  325 
Words,  changes  in,  365,  366 

Zeno,  injunctions  of,  107,  108 


XIX  711 


